lirik lagu wax - lemons
[intro: old tv programming & wax]
let’s assemble our lemonade starting with some filtered water
the best part is you can do this to taste, you can make it lemony or sweet
now you’re ready for a picnic or a nice [?]
all those oils in the peel will give you an incredible burst of
lemon squeeze
running sh~t
[verse]
that’s my favorite errand and gerund
mean mugging concertgoers get bobby mcferrin~ed
muster up emotion of a dusty old theremin
discerning listeners can pick up my voice in the saharan wind
y’all mid lеvel like maryland, latitudinally and in a bad mood usually
not me
shattеr convention with a pebble
at an intervention with the devil, i was level headed
my tendency to drift, such a gift, cause your thumb to lift
like a hitch hiker tryna bum a lift
from a passing by motorist
asinine vocalist, fascinated by colloquialisms
i quiz bums like the beach patrol
sleeping on me in the sand, sans reaching goals
i just conducted a secret poll
turns out some were born to run i simply seek to stroll
i speak in code through the speaker holes
a beacon that can be seen but she can’t be controlled
those in the know read between the folds
i put your wandering soul into a sleeper hold
this ain’t a strangle hold, it’s a newfangled hold
whole new angle on holds i’m breaking some molds
a pimp in anchorage, alaska said my slang is cold
turn you to a family dry cleaners, your whole gang will fold
[coda: old tv programming & wax]
ooh, ooh, ooh
easy peasy
oooh, ooh, ooh
once that sugar’s dissolved…
lemon squeezy
i rose to a new level in scientology
didn’t pay a cent, my ascent was mind boggling
[verse]
l. ron looked up at me in astonishment
the laws of physics, i abolished them
you really ought to give me my proper acknowledgement
as if to the best college i went
let’s not forget this old body’s not the only skin that i’ve been in
when i toggle in, to the god within
of the past lives i’ve lived i’m more cognizant
i sang songs of both poverty and opulence
i played the tablas in the band that ghandi’s mom was in
ancient rhythms beating in the fabric of my collagen
power house, might of been a mitochondria
already many mental images i might have conjured, um
with what shall i follow this up?
a fat man walking, i follow my gut
[outro]
oooh, ooh oh ooh ooh
oooh, ooh oh ooh ooh
ugh!
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