[Verse 1]
I'm a busted pill, undiagnosed, resting on a rusty nail
Holes in my clothes, holes in my voice
Used to launch eulogies from the summit, but I always spoke from the gut
Crushed glass in my stomach made it hard to kneel
Been to Hell, tried to drag companions (but for comfort they fell)
I'm a face on mars, a ripple on a stream, a case of SARS
A case of fat tire in the fridge
Always hoped the universe would be kinder to me
But I'm American, the cosmos don't like me
Put me in a box, told me to dance the same, yet different and not upset the balance
So I choose survival, it's a struggle
I'll never cross the Atlantic with an ounce of petrol
(And you still trying to build a rock with ethanol?)
The worlds heating up, you gonna save us with alcohol?
[Chorus]
You can't feel new, nothing is free
You can't clean every toilet in the city
You can't be thirty and still making hip-hop
You can't kill god with a slingshot
You can't feel new, nothing is free
You can't clean every toilet in the city
You can't be thirty and still making hip-hop
You can't kill God with a slingshot
[Verse 2]
It's too much, one mouth to feed, one life to live, one planet to milk dry
Spill your guts (but don't slip up)
Nobody wants to bare your crosses or share your losses
So running the gauntlet ain't no picnic
Want a song about a "protest"?
A song about a slow dance with death?
A cold hand rocks you to be more productive
Wish you'd listened but in steel no one hears your scream
Cerberus nipping your heels
When you're slipping, ain't nobody lifting your chin
2 miles towards space with a bloody nose
No tones as atonement, nor maladies and melodies, a calculating killing machine
(It's kicking out all of your teeth before a blind man can say peace)
Nonsense is always abundance, in a mock trial, in a fake age of enlightenment
Don't fold your cards, the cable's about to fold so hold the line
It was built to wear you thin, the mind is a broken box and it can't hold you steady
[Chorus]
You can't feel new, nothing is free
You can't clean every toilet in the city
You can't be thirty and still making hip-hop
You can't kill god with a slingshot
You can't feel new, nothing is free
You can't clean every toilet in the city
You can't be thirty and still making hip-hop
You can't kill God with a slingshot
[Verse 3]
In the words of a Pharaoh: "Why must I exist? With pale blue lips."
Stranded, ain't no wings left to clip
Conspicuous when you're buried in rust
And the corners still jeering at us
Left hook, right hook, life is a tongue in a bike spoke
Gotta bunch through or I might choke
(Never gonna be understood by the white coats)
On the mic, I'm like Santa, got bombs on a tightrope
They got us figured out down to an isotope, your world is caving in on a microscope
Late at night in fright, in day paid to die
(No way to live, no way to die)
No bombs to calm the storm
Winter is permanent, summer is a dream long gone
Plant a fence, watch it pass where the trees are
Till the sky is ugly as we are
[Chorus]
You can't feel new, nothing is free
You can't clean every toilet in the city
You can't be thirty and still making hip-hop
You can't kill god with a slingshot
You can't feel new, nothing is free
You can't clean every toilet in the city
You can't be thirty and still making hip-hop
You can't kill God with a slingshot
