The Gut

I never say never or die, I say nevermind
Cats is tryna nickel and dime me, you and what army?
Use your simple mind, got fed up with nickels in the nick of time
That goes for nickel bags, that goes for nickle nines

The thinker drinking up the pickle brine who never gotten bitten
Listen what you out your cotton picking mind?
I come to poke you like a porcupine
Face of poker, pop up like a Pokémon, c'mon

I'm Papa San, bopping to the Bach and Brahms
And fricking Rick the Ruler, playing it cool like I'm the fucking Fonz
My Uzi weigh a couple tons, aimed at Uncle Toms
So you can call me capitan more than a couple times

Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see

Flying saucers, iron horses, lying reporters
Falsifying sources, ignoring higher forces, life is all of this
Simultaneous, they tryna play with us
Just listen to your gut (gut, gut, gut)

I always say "thank you" and "please", I speak Japanese
Noons and evenings of eating on frank and beans had crippled my faculties
And then when you factor in the factories
Shit is worse than fracking by a factor of three

My flab was flappin' in the breeze
Now I set you free
While I'm scratching fleas, either all in or you falling on your keys
Whatchamacallit
What you call it when you balling but you always getting T's

Or when you bawling but you always getting teased, that's just like pulling teeth
When signs be out of sight and out of reach
Yo, honestly, get out a seat, go on a odyssey
Check on the god that's either on the scene or getting sleep
Sick as a dog and pissing on a tree and getting treats

Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see

Check it
Philosophy, theology, astronomy, astrology
The individual versus the colony
Society, conformity, reality is none of these and all of these
Just listen to your gut (gut, gut, gut)

For never and always, I'm spreading the Hollandaise
I live in a modern day, hollowed cave
I'm swinging the ball and chain at people that say that we are all the same
I'm shedding the harness, I'ma motherfuckin' artist, mane

Accepting the carnage was the hardest thing
Guarding my garden was the darndest thing, my armor needed varnishing
So now I'm straight into the heart of things
My heart sing, a member of the starting string

Who farts stink
My favorite attributes are heart and strength
My favorite art is woman, and my favorite part's pink
Your fellow celler dweller with the feather in the ink
Noah was overzealous, I'm selling umbrellas on the brink

Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see
Believe what's in your gut, and not whatcha see

Your man is saying he got some grams on the way in
Asking if you wish to participate in the mayhem
Your bank statement is saying nathan, you contemplating
Play it safe or chase papers in great denominations

Initially, your shit's amazing, fast cash
'Til a cat flashes a badge in your face, you facing incarceration
You see your mother's pain at the arraignment
Like what the fuck, I should have listened to my gut (gut, gut, gut)