I wana wear you straight to God's gate and face the judge-high
Drop gold off and kiss goodnight
Speeding on the run again... come-come-get
Crabs ain't stopped mine yet, babe
I know your God's out for something I got
I know the sick know it's something they need
He know The Brain's out breaking his law
Light up a smoke, babe, the wiz kid's burnin' right now
You better call up a cop on Johnny Brain Box
You better call all the cops- Johnny Brain Box
I, the king, came to run your gems
Sweet queen come back to get bent
I wana wear you straight to Hell's cellar in devil-killin' nine inch heels... for the thrill
We'll love the trash can and love that mud
Fly our passions across time lines with 99 crows shooting piss-filled guns
Wild air-pirate twisted fun
Now, I know a street rat who wants his dream back
I know snakes that came to get right
Beatin' on my drum again, beatin' non-stop
y'ain't gona kill my Tuesday night
Now, I know your God's out for something I got
I know the snakes know it's something they need
He know The Brain's out breaking his law
Light up a smoke, babe, the wiz kid's burnin' right now
You better call up a cop on Johnny Brain Box
Fuck it, call all the cops, Johnny Brain Box yeah
And the streets have weathered me- ready be the dead boy
Grab that, love that, lust that, done then
I now bring that rage-full sunset
Blown volcano, run man, run fast
I won't know that same ocean
My sea's flowing with rainbow drips of souls melting out of eternity's bliss
Angel, deliver my sacred dish
The enigmatic punk-rap duo of Justin Pearson (The Locust, Swing Kids) and hip-hop producer Luke Henshaw make their long-awaited return. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 7, 2024