DOT XXX - Watsky

Better hit that damn drum, gotta keep the time

Better hit that damn drum, gotta keep the mind tickin'

In a mad life, chaotic and wicked

Dickin' around with sound, found religion

The rhythm giving neat division

To disarray, when not a nothing is clicking

But it’s okay, we cut the pandemonium up

To ticker-tape and strut in it

Does structure give us some significance?

Dust each coincidence off, you’ll find my fingerprints

Kidding, kidding, I’m a clown prince, not a visionary

Run the numbers, the drummer’s a mathematician

When shit’s gray like Dorian, drift my DeLorean

I’m a click away from the Bay to the Korean Peninsula

To Pennsylvania to the Philippines

On the scene gettin' mean on the philistines

You tend to bring the force when you got a brain

Hung like a horse and a tongue like a guillotine

I’m coming sharper than killer bee stingers

While I’m bringing you the illest soliloquy

If you really put your ear to this, then you will agree

What you’re really hearing is authentic ability

Feelin' me not required, it’s elective

Grow the fuck up, admit art’s subjective

What you can relate to and the perspective

And my perspective is that some folks defective

Now, now, don’t cry, there’s a lot of dumb guys

Think they’re on earth flat like a papadam

Papa don’t preach, but son gotta pop a Tums

If guts was cookies, these dudes got not a crumb

Yes, with success, I do got a modicum

Come properly, but I do have the thought of, um

Am I problematic or a problem on the mic?

Why not both? (Little meme shrug)

If you really sip the bean in my mean mug

You can see I’m a fiend for this drug

Culture vulture got that plug (Butt)

Whatever you think of it

I’m a product of the record industry syndicate

Go ahead, pretend we live inside of a vacuum

You’ll be covered in a bunch of itchy ass lint and shit

If I tell you that I’m humble, I’m Pinocchio

And if I’m navel-gazing when my nose’ll grow

That’s a ritual seppuku, so I’m sending you back to

Your regularly scheduled braggadocio

Do-si-do around the clowns, hit a little flex

Speaking in calligraphy while they’re in simple text

I got a riddle that’s hot off the griddle, keep all your

Heads on a swivel, I got the kibble to feed the internets

Ripple effects for every decision, my nipples erect

I get a new vision, but it intersects with

My shipwrecks from every mission I’ve been in

The ending is the beginning, so what if I hit the deck?

'Cause we’ll pop a corks if you saw us on tour

Come and sip the next brew if you want more

I’m not yet in the morgue, too hot to be a borg

Watsky might be dead, but you still got George

For a little sex for your intellects

Visit kisswatskysgluteusmaximus dot triple X