With Us - Molemen, Cage, Copywrite

Somebody better call the cops!

We’ll throw rocks and smash shit

Because I’m down to the most intricate ligament detachment action

Closed-captions are the gross fractions

Of the percentage of song-writers that host caskets

Want to see the Cage album or get clapped to hear it?

Bludgeon you to death, minutes later shootin' your spirit!

Shootin' a porn I got a quick role;

Empty the clip in this bitch, fuck the wound

'Till the slug’s up in my dick hole

Wastin' mine and the crowd’s time

Thought you had beef standing there with a cow’s spine

And I’m eatin' the heart

Get beaten apart, painting with your arms — leaking the art

Somebody get this kid a bandage

While I’m stabbing where your adrenaline gland is in front of cameras

Tryin' to balance a nuclear warhead on your forehead

Pullin' soul food through your stomach to dip the cornbread

Fucking with us, we’ll leave you stuck in the dirt

With your fiance and my fingers up in her skirt

Weathermen for life, as long as I’m stuck on the earth

And if a bitch don’t swallow, what the fuck is she worth?

We get grimy, haven’t showered for days;

flies behind me

Grimy, I can pick your lock in 6 seconds;

time me

Grimy, I don’t give a shit if you like me or don’t like me

As long as you see us you keep your mouth locked tightly

You’ll shit your drawers, before I spit two bars

I’m everything you’re ashamed to admit you are

When God said let there be light, I appeard

You thought I debuted on World Premiere?

I was here

Made a blind man tell me what color my eyes are

Made a deaf girl complain on what level the highs are

Last one to cyph with us, I sliced them up

To who I’m shittin' on, you ain’t nice enough

To waste a written on

The Weathermen, we’re comin' up to get you

I can’t think of a stage name dumb enough to fit you

I hit you with six 2 by 4s, Crews I floor

Picked up his watch, turned to his bitch like «You my whore!»

I’m too hot, stop this man

When I was born 3rd degree burns were left on the doctor’s hands

You want mine?

The mic’s your dad’s buckle

These punchlines are spiked with brass knuckles

Underwater I breathe and move quicker than you

I know heads that been dead for decades sicker than you

They’re my dogs I’ll sick 'em on you.

And my pets are vicious

Shit, I’m the owner, Go fetch my slippers

Besides us ain’t it too many rippin'

My brainstorm floods with enough thought for y’all to skinny dip in

And I forever burn steady, since Adam was put in a garden

And if y’all weren’t ready, you shouldn’t have started