Released: August 28, 2008
Songwriter: Blockhead Aesop Rock
Producer: Blockhead
[Sample]
For want of a nail the shoe was lost
For want of a shoe the horse was lost
For want of a horse the rider was lost
For want of a rider the battle was lost
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail
There is a hole in front of the shovel
Shovel in front of the brawn
Six billion gorillas for whom the graves yawn
Each within his mulish days to choose his tool of trade
Dueling blades that cued a cruel charade and fuel the flames
Few would clue the crew into the civil
Skip the food and land like you the man
Who flew the coop over the pitbulls
Dash back flashy to compassionate nanopolice who sat beneath an avalanche of jagged inadequacies
And I was "Stop the Violence" more than I was Pontius Pilate
Cops and robbers riot by the five's obnoxious sirens
A is gullible he figure, "all man equal, no brainer"
Take it his friends and neighbors didn't cater
Moms raised the babies through a very churchy 80's
Sunday mornings reinforce the waiting gates of Hades
And he brazen but apparently inferno bound now
For when a man of cloth recite his wrongs he wouldn't bow down
The punishment should fit the reasons you must punish him
Never puncture skin or pull the colored rugs from under them
Two opposing mother ships shall not employ the gunners deck
Cause brotherhoods of public good do not employ the unctuous
And you. observe and have the givetheth disproportionate
To the taketh away decide to maketh his day (do it)
All the stoic odium glow in a cold holster
To where he coulda stood easily in the tub jugglin toasters
[Hook]
No mountain too high
No city too far
No coma tonight
No city tomorrow
No fire too live
No city too charred
No treaty to sign
No city to guard
I picked the phone up with a grown-up mode approach
Skin crawlin off the drawl and now I claw the awkward tone up
I'd known it wasn't roses
But hoped it was less corrosive
Coastin to the focus of the grossest diagnosis
Like homes, the barnacles that chew upon the flesh of man
Have clued into the suitor was capital to a beggar's hand
And uncomfortably. sung a stubborn legacy of gluttony
With carnivores that burrow like hunters into the blood in meat - umm, what?
Chinny chin-up and the city picked this
In a pent-up letter numbed the spitting stigma
Along came a spider, sold her eggs to any buyer
Now to shoot a ringer back with six legs wider than the driver
If you make no friends on the way to the top rung
There is no secret handshake club I do not give a fuck
But know the cancers make the olive branches obviously standard
So when they extend from the yachts and mansions drop your canons
All kings hang em for the cliffs side drip dry
Will he clip the zipline or slip for his final dip dive?
If he live will he survive the milligrams of middle-ground
They pump into the pin-striped pentagrams over Tinsel-town
Or kill a man who trickled down the city with his scissors out
Or sickles, dipped in military hells bells and whistles
Riders to the east, not a wild tribes
Thank you for the peace on earth and mercy miles high
[Hook]
No mountain too high
No city too far
No coma tonight
No city tomorrow
No fire too live
No city too charred
No treaty to sign
No city to guard
For want of a nail the shoe was lost
For want of a shoe the horse was lost
For want of a horse the rider was lost
For want of a rider the battle was lost
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail
There is a hole in front of the shovel
Shovel in front of the brawn
Six billion gorillas for whom the graves yawn
Each within his mulish days to choose his tool of trade
Dueling blades that cued a cruel charade and fuel the flames
Few would clue the crew into the civil
Skip the food and land like you the man
Who flew the coop over the pitbulls
Dash back flashy to compassionate nanopolice who sat beneath an avalanche of jagged inadequacies
And I was "Stop the Violence" more than I was Pontius Pilate
Cops and robbers riot by the five's obnoxious sirens
A is gullible he figure, "all man equal, no brainer"
Take it his friends and neighbors didn't cater
Moms raised the babies through a very churchy 80's
Sunday mornings reinforce the waiting gates of Hades
And he brazen but apparently inferno bound now
For when a man of cloth recite his wrongs he wouldn't bow down
The punishment should fit the reasons you must punish him
Never puncture skin or pull the colored rugs from under them
Two opposing mother ships shall not employ the gunners deck
Cause brotherhoods of public good do not employ the unctuous
And you. observe and have the givetheth disproportionate
To the taketh away decide to maketh his day (do it)
All the stoic odium glow in a cold holster
To where he coulda stood easily in the tub jugglin toasters
[Hook]
No mountain too high
No city too far
No coma tonight
No city tomorrow
No fire too live
No city too charred
No treaty to sign
No city to guard
I picked the phone up with a grown-up mode approach
Skin crawlin off the drawl and now I claw the awkward tone up
I'd known it wasn't roses
But hoped it was less corrosive
Coastin to the focus of the grossest diagnosis
Like homes, the barnacles that chew upon the flesh of man
Have clued into the suitor was capital to a beggar's hand
And uncomfortably. sung a stubborn legacy of gluttony
With carnivores that burrow like hunters into the blood in meat - umm, what?
Chinny chin-up and the city picked this
In a pent-up letter numbed the spitting stigma
Along came a spider, sold her eggs to any buyer
Now to shoot a ringer back with six legs wider than the driver
If you make no friends on the way to the top rung
There is no secret handshake club I do not give a fuck
But know the cancers make the olive branches obviously standard
So when they extend from the yachts and mansions drop your canons
All kings hang em for the cliffs side drip dry
Will he clip the zipline or slip for his final dip dive?
If he live will he survive the milligrams of middle-ground
They pump into the pin-striped pentagrams over Tinsel-town
Or kill a man who trickled down the city with his scissors out
Or sickles, dipped in military hells bells and whistles
Riders to the east, not a wild tribes
Thank you for the peace on earth and mercy miles high
[Hook]
No mountain too high
No city too far
No coma tonight
No city tomorrow
No fire too live
No city too charred
No treaty to sign
No city to guard