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lyrics

Young Hunger
Aggy when we talk
Stagger when we walk
Dagger on the hip
Baggy of that Cali bomb hit
Cold Iron Screw-faces
Never pose for these Old Timers

Dollars are dime a dozen
Good Golly Dali’s Denali
Hollywood sloppy the budget
Bali pick up the slack
Lolly gag to a body bag
Gag the body guard
Never got him back
Prolly in somebody’s car
Freedom affordable
Vulnerable foreign attacks
Feed em to foreigners
Fade into white forging the black
Forcing the poor in disorder
Sorted by class
Shore to a Shore
Shine in the sea
But not sure to attract
Get your Head Shot-Lights On
Teleprompt that
Dead waves-Mic’s On
Tell em’ all Lies
Get the Best Spot-Right or Wrong
High Class
But the camera stole your soul
So your sold all the young minds
Bloody Hammer Boy
Butcher butching hella steaks
Cut the category
Busters telling on themselves
But I don’t hate the hate
Welcome it with open arms
Squeeze suckas till they suffocate
Send em’ on their own accord

Young Hunger
Aggy when we talk
Stagger when we walk
Dagger on the hip
Baggy of that Cali bomb hit
Cold Iron Screw-faces
Never pose for these Old Timers

Glory-Glory holla at a playwright
Scholar to a ripper Turn figure the pays right
Daylight tripper, Slave to the blade
Braver to bang bigger
Fangs thicker quicker than painkillers
Hey killer your triggers run vigorous
Hiccups to split up the vein filler
Brains fill up will in Vain realer
Than propelling the fame kick-up
Watching the flame flicker
But you ain’t killing the game killer
You one in the same villain
Bad business
Just to clipper the grill in
Diligent figures too twisted
To fill out the fillings
Too big for ya britches
Too small for that white tee
You’re either too dumb for the riches
Or too young for that pipe dream
I’m part of a grey race
Follow a Bad Religion
Out the heart of this great escape
Harder to pass wisdom
Stare at a blank face
Ask em’ if that’s livin’
Snap Shot Lean Back
We’ll make it a fast gimmick
Bloody Hammer Boy
Butcher butching hella steaks
Cut the category
Busters telling on themselves
But I don’t hate the hate
Welcome it with open arms
Squeeze suckas till they suffocate
Send em’ on their own accord

Young Hunger
Aggy when we talk
Stagger when we walk
Dagger on the hip
Baggy of that Cali bomb hit
Cold Iron Screw-faces
Never pose for these Old Timers

And I guess it’s all in your mind
A perception of time
You can’t leave it alone?
Me either
I stress till it’s all outta line
Till my method is blind
IT won’t leave ME alone cuz
IT needs ME
And at best I’m only a sign
Pointing any direction designed
Standing alone
The Lone Leader
Not the Holy Roller or Lowly Divine
Cuz the Soul slowly divides from a hole
In the mind that grows deeper

Young Hunger
Aggy when we talk
Stagger when we walk
Dagger on the hip
Baggy of that Cali bomb hit
Cold Iron Screw-faces
Never pose for these Old Timers

credits

from Hand Over Fist, released September 23, 2008

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Mike Mictlan Minneapolis

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