DJ Vice These Are The Breaks Vice in Vegas lyrics

[Verse 1 :Aesop Rock]
All grown stuff
Long road no fluff
Piece of work
Eat the turn buckle like a roast duck
Post punk
Plate of fat
Raider of the rations
Blacksmith: forge Coltrane out of klaxon
Zap!
The riddle wriggle on about the residue
A social advocate, a Black Phillip at the petting zoo
Run ragged til the blood magic pretzel you
Rag tag plasmid owners clashing over devil's food
(Cake)
These are the breaks that make the embers blue
I can't wake up without a lake of fire to step into
I can't wake up without a battle scene to emulate
I'm in the kitchen repositioning the trebuchets
Top row swan dive
Aim for the ballyhoo
Bonzai!
Certain death hangs from a parachute
My bows and arrows like two lovers
Underneath the Paris moon
They been together since the bounty hunt
This afternoon, and K I S S I N G
Eyes on his rivalries
Look at all these wonderful prizes inside his diaries
I write about delirium and disappearing devils
Then frame it with a margin of the most feared symbols
And a shitty drawing of me playing Guns n' Roses pinball
People peeking in my window like they might just wear my skin home
I walk like a D-Day sim
You walk like a de-veined shrimp
Simp!

[Hook]
I know a couple things about a couple things (x4)

[Verse 2: Homeboy Sandman]
Imbued with the fortitude
And shards of glass that broke the 40’s on the old forty deuce
This ain't your forty acres and a mule though
This is twenty paces and a duel, dude, don’t do it
If 80s[?] yesterday becomes tomorrow cause I never learn
My closet fills with shit I borrowed and did not return
And never lifted like a proper curse
You heard the hiss behind the acid smile the bastard child of mother earth
Behind the pimp there lies a princess that is cold as ice
I hope, that you’re the one, if not then you’re the prototype
Blindness allegiance that was sworn to rites
The water’s warm in the disorder but you ain’t about that sort of life
Minds tend to wander like Madonna’s on the border line
The loaves and fishes make for dirty dishes, let’s just pour the wine
After a couple gallons ain’t no balance left to toe the line
You need a different type emoticon
No need reverse and hear the praise of Azazel soon as the record plays
I’m causing data, DJ, take us to the end of days
Until the crowd becomes a second stage
I’m up for burning at the stake
And switch Binaca out for pepperspray
That’s where they call the coppers 88
And where they beat it up
And eat it up and heat it up until it radiate
Fuck the delaying and the waiting like we playing games
Who’s down to lay in graves
(ugh!)

[Hook]
I know a couple things about a couple things (x4)

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