Released: December 9, 2014

Songwriter: Zach Hill MC Ride

Producer: Andy Morin Zach Hill

[Verse 1]
Inanimate sensation
Vantage perspective from objective it came from
Inanimate situation
No relation, close liaison
No conversation, no social contagion
Bother me, wanna be comrade intrusive
I remain
Inanimate aloof skip
Counterfeit
Like no can do, bitch
My vinyl vibrate higher than you, bitch
I represent, ain't meant to pursue which
One of you, oh you all wanna ride, well, I ain't got room stress
While we continue to make shit tight the loosest
Aaaah

[Chorus]
Blown out
Base

[Verse 2]
You got a minute
You're in my way
What's wrong
Wrong with who
So what's going on?
Okay
Where you at right now?
I'm not with you
Inanimate persuasion
Strictly still life with all of my occasion
Inanimate surge of inspiration
Glow like thermonuclear invasion
Compared to swapping thoughts; regurgitation
I revel in lack of slightest acquaintance
No rancid level after taste inanimate negate opinion
As it unravel like enigmatic onion
Layers of interdimensional dominion

[Chorus]
Blown out
Base

[Verse 3]
Yeah, bitch
Bitch, bitch
My smoke, my butane
My boots, my headphones, my medicated noose
My deadroom, my schwartzwald hat, my Mac
My macaque skull, my lysergic stash
Empty streets at night, my bike
Apartment sink filled with dry ice
Condemned tenement, brandished rail spike
Disturb in flat noir and stale white
Grey cloud curled around my bearded compound like boa
One of two thunderbolt we ain't broke on tour
Concrète antique trapdoor twenty-four
Spots to get that get right
When I gotta get right some more
Type of get right I can't afford
I covet these things more than any living thing
I've never been

[Chorus]
Blown out
Base

[Verse 4]
I'm so Northern California, I call scratch "bammer"
Pure overhander
Live show on a banner
Axl Rose in a blender
Slash on Satan's fender
Rick James on the cover
Running through your lover
Like mean Mr. Mustard
Stadium style
For those who came to jock
Watch that man salute you
Endless nameless Lady Godivas we snoop to
Like eighty-three mermaids in Brooklyn Zoo
Inanimate ghetto box we used to pimp through

[Chorus]
Blown out
Base

[Bridge]
Inanimate fixation
Obsessed with my demo tape collection
Inanimate riffs I'm glazin'
Brag you're making music, naw, you're makin' bacon
Skinhead, skinhead inna dublin
I like my iPod more than fuckin'

[Chorus]
Blown out
Base

Death Grips

Death Grips is an experimental multi-genre group from Sacramento, CA, formed in 2010. Their music and live performances consist of vocals from Stefan “MC Ride” Burnett and production from Zach Hill and Andy Morin. On July 2nd, 2014, the band officially announced their disbanding via a note on their Facebook page. However, on October 21, 2015, they announced they ‘might make some more’ music together, and released a new album, Bottomless Pit in 2016. Their latest album, Year of the Snitch, was released in 2018.

The band’s music has been described as punk rock, hip-hop, noise, industrial, and electronic. Their sound ranges from minimalistic and trunk-rattling heaviness (such as on “No Love”), to rapping about dark subjects over heavily distorted samples (like on “I’ve Seen Footage”). They have also released two entirely instrumental albums, Fashion Week and Interview 2016, which feature abrasive and violent electronic beats and some guitars.

Frontman Stefan Burnett’s violent lyrics draw inspiration from a struggle both against himself and against the world at large, focusing on themes of individualism, paranoia, mental illness, drug use, occultism, and the emotionally degenerative nature of modern society.