In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
Yo Chuck, we got runnin mixes in da headphones...
Ahh. . . . ah ha ha ha HA. . . .
WICKED!!!!
Ha Ha 1..2..3 and I come with the wicked style
you know that I'm from the wicked crew, you act like you knew
But I got everybody jumping to the voodoo
You kickin wicked rhymes, picket signs, while me and my mob got a trunk full of 9's
Drop then I'll slay ya, bing, bang, birthday for the A-hole
Ready to Buck! Buck! Buck! but it's a must to Duck! Duck! Duck!
Before I bust ya!
Looking for the one that did it
You want my vote, no know you never gonna get it
Cause I'm the one with the phat mad skills
And I won't choke like the Buffalo Bills, Sittin at the pad just chillen
Larry Parker just got 2 million, Oh what a fucking feeling
That nigger girl past me the feel, and I'm slam dunk'en like Shaquille O'neal
Wicked, Wreckin
Baby, I'll rock that test tube baby, kick it...
'Cause I get Wicked! I sikemonmeh keep on their fire
Yes I Wicked! I told em ekeh eimnon their fire
Yes I Wicked! I tech emon they kimnon their fire
But necko seemo wase, so I keemnon your fire
Don't say nothing just listen
Got me a plan to break Tyson out of prison
You going my way you get served
Still got a deuce then I bunny hop the curb
Nappy head, nappy chest, nappy chin, never seen with a happy grin
Gotta fat frown, kick 'em down, so take a look around
All you see is big black boots, stepin, use my steel toe as a weapon
And it's awfully quiet, you want to live with this nigger, to with the stick
Ah, but that's nasty, cause I got a Body Count like Ice-T
I live in New York, I get them skins, and I ain't talking about pork
Your sly, you pig, dig
Listen from the flow from a soul fro'ed caucasion
Ah, who didn't know I was as funky as Wilson Picket
but ya talkin...
chorus
If ya wanna know how come I get a gat
and I'm sitting at the window like Malcolm
Ready to bring that noise and kinda trigger happy like the Ghetto Boyz
December 29th was power to the people, y'all might just see a sequel
'Cause police got equal, hey, A horse is a pig that don't fly straight
I'm down with Daryl Gates but it's Willie Willams. . . I'm down with the pilgrims
I'm threw with your big ass side dig, this jog is dead, get out cause. . ..
chorus
Ahh. . . . ah ha ha ha HA. . . .
WICKED!!!!
Ha Ha 1..2..3 and I come with the wicked style
you know that I'm from the wicked crew, you act like you knew
But I got everybody jumping to the voodoo
You kickin wicked rhymes, picket signs, while me and my mob got a trunk full of 9's
Drop then I'll slay ya, bing, bang, birthday for the A-hole
Ready to Buck! Buck! Buck! but it's a must to Duck! Duck! Duck!
Before I bust ya!
Looking for the one that did it
You want my vote, no know you never gonna get it
Cause I'm the one with the phat mad skills
And I won't choke like the Buffalo Bills, Sittin at the pad just chillen
Larry Parker just got 2 million, Oh what a fucking feeling
That nigger girl past me the feel, and I'm slam dunk'en like Shaquille O'neal
Wicked, Wreckin
Baby, I'll rock that test tube baby, kick it...
'Cause I get Wicked! I sikemonmeh keep on their fire
Yes I Wicked! I told em ekeh eimnon their fire
Yes I Wicked! I tech emon they kimnon their fire
But necko seemo wase, so I keemnon your fire
Don't say nothing just listen
Got me a plan to break Tyson out of prison
You going my way you get served
Still got a deuce then I bunny hop the curb
Nappy head, nappy chest, nappy chin, never seen with a happy grin
Gotta fat frown, kick 'em down, so take a look around
All you see is big black boots, stepin, use my steel toe as a weapon
And it's awfully quiet, you want to live with this nigger, to with the stick
Ah, but that's nasty, cause I got a Body Count like Ice-T
I live in New York, I get them skins, and I ain't talking about pork
Your sly, you pig, dig
Listen from the flow from a soul fro'ed caucasion
Ah, who didn't know I was as funky as Wilson Picket
but ya talkin...
chorus
If ya wanna know how come I get a gat
and I'm sitting at the window like Malcolm
Ready to bring that noise and kinda trigger happy like the Ghetto Boyz
December 29th was power to the people, y'all might just see a sequel
'Cause police got equal, hey, A horse is a pig that don't fly straight
I'm down with Daryl Gates but it's Willie Willams. . . I'm down with the pilgrims
I'm threw with your big ass side dig, this jog is dead, get out cause. . ..
chorus
Lyrics submitted by me109cito
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