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lyrics

CHORUS X2:
we're some weirdos...fear those, guys from the other side/
cut off of a strange cloth...fabric from another time/
weirdos... odd how we put together topics/
take us to your leader...we are cosmic, thought we'd drop in/


C-GATS:
metaphysical science...writin for yall considered normal/
never formal with my presence...im here to report to/
all ya leaders ... meter readers, and hamburger flippers/
scholars from ivory colleges...doctors, dropouts and wizards/
lizards and ghosts...my inner most demons speakin to you/
writin in crayon at saionces ...and im sneakin it through/
my medium is a paper...vapors and strawberry chocolates/
i keep it yummy...my tummy's bubblin' with alien vomit/
alien sonnets i spew...baby im way beyond grounded/
i found a thousand of you...frankly im crazy astonished/
you sound like...lazy fugazi hazy baboons with bubonic/
play you like babies with bottles...hittin the throttle on rocket ships/
got the boggling script...brighter than firin' phasers/
so when i lock-in my spit...you'll need some goggles with tints/
im aimin all in ya ear hole...while im swallowin' beer slow/
yeah the cause of your peers fears...they call him a weirdo/



CHORUS X2:
we're some weirdos...fear those, guys from the other side/
cut off of a strange cloth...fabric from another time/
weirdos... odd how we put together topics/
take us to your leader...we are cosmic, thought we'd drop in/


EVILLE:
This is not a test...I've got a fist that's palming flesh../
where I exist is on a freshly dropping comet on your heads../
they say my grip's the strongest yet.../
so when I spit this martian mesh..../
that engulfs your fragile body and just rips you all to shreds.../
I am the manhunter...invisible dirigible pilot.../
blasting gamma rays in grammar waves...sent through my eyelids../
we are brave a collective...and..you can save your rectum.../
we're only probing brains...holding faces to detectors..../
they tried to dissect us....but our skin was unaffected../
escape from out our holding cells and now we're killing records../
zilla's is the method...we recording where they crashed us.../
according to my raps...I must've wrote the last in plasma../
it's another element...the fifth is just intelligence..../
amalgam....of formaldehyde that's bound to fry my melanin..../
but fuck it...I'm adjusted...Im down to fly through nebulaes.../
astounded I'm irregular? this sound is by a predator....

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C Gats Suitland Silver Hill, Maryland

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