Rough Up the Groove

Schooled Southside beneath the King of Beasts, back in PigFat, St. Louis.
The air was gravid with heat, sex, and hops.
They made the beer, drank it when they got off.
“This is what you gotta do.”
But, I just want to scratch the groove.
No.
No.
No.
Pick a partner.
Pick a dom-icile.
My choice was to pick them all.
Lying, flying, like men blankly do.
“Girl, yer in the wrong neighborhood.”
“This is what you gotta do.”
But, I don't care.
I'll smash the groove.
“This is what you gotta do now.”
“This is what you gotta do now.”
This is what you must do, but I'm going to rough up the groove.
Tat-for-tit, you always gave me shit,
'cuz I DID NOT DRESS LIKE A FEMINIST.
Now you've had your so important baby,
Who will grow to do graphics for Old Navy.
“This is what you gotta do.”
But, not me.
Please.
I'll pound the groove.
“This is what you gotta do now.”
“This is what you gotta do now.”
This is what you must do, but I'm going to rough-up the groove.
“This is what you gotta do now.”
“This is what you gotta do now.”
It's only what you must do 'cause it's what you agree to.
No.
No.
Burn your brain right through.
These are the things,
These are the things you have to do.
Run your heart right through.
These are the things,
These are the things you have to do.
“This is what you gotta do now.”
“This is what you gotta do now.”
This is what you're supposed to do, but come with me and fill the groove.
“This is what you gotta do now.”
“This is what you gotta do now.”
It's only what you must do 'cause it's what you agree to.
No.
No.