Bookoo Bread Co.

[Verse 1: scallops hotel] I'm wearing Jazz musician socks Padded shoulder blades on the corduroy blazer Brush off dander I don't pander to older ways Basket case, strange male wit Couldn't help but notice how his chainmail fit It was all shines and gleaming Noticed I was lazy I show what his mind be scheming That boy raps like there's no tomorrow That boy raps like there's only black keys That boy raps like Rivka Galchen That boy raps like… I two-step when there's a glitch in the matrix Hambone through the fabric of space time My mind is not a radio broadcasting Pull up the collar on my London Fog Rap is all monologue I can feel the edges of my whole world shrinking I've been thinking about what is called thinking if Every copy is a meta-original then Who will benefit from being truly original? We've been more than patient The anti-realist never considers motivation I love rappers how shepherds love sheep for wool It's easy for me to say this place isn't beautiful I love rappers how shepherds love sheep for wool It's easy for me to say this place isn't beautiful