Hacker Lyrics

by Death Grips

Goin' back to Tangier
With some jordans and a spear
Post-Christian sh*t
Post chicken or the egg addiction sh*t
Pass the sherm stick
Neo-reality
Be the freak you wanna see
Just don't follow me
I'm on a journey to the center of three
Grab your f*cking chain and drag you through the bike lane
While everybody's like no

[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricenter.com/e84962-death_grips~hacker_lyrics.html ]
I got this pregnant snake
Stay surrounded by long hairs
A plethora of maniacs and spiral stairs
Make your water break in the apple store
Sink or swim, who f*cking cares
Cut the birth cords, press send
Yeah thick
Gaga can't handle this sh*t

Headed for the Sammy Davis wing
Throw up a black hole at the entrance of linens n things on the way
Never call it a day
Visit Tesla's grave for the ninth time today
Still on the way
Bigger wigs

(When you come out your sh*t is gone) [x4]
I'm in your area, I'm in your area [x2]
I know the first three numbers, I'm in [x2]
I'm in your area, I'm in your area [x2]
I know the first three numbers, I'm in [x2]
When you come out your sh*t is gone [x2]
I'm in
When you come out your sh*t is gone [x2]

You'll catch a jpeg to the head, ΓΌber reach
You're an intern on Wiki Leaks
Most loved therefore most hated
Come and knock on the door we've been waiting for you
Game changer
Reclusive aggressive
Yinging and yanging noided
Info warrior jack the hacker
The rolling stoner
Profit on disaster

My existence is a momentary lapse of reason
Got the DNA of Gothic lemons
Shred it thirteen times out of eleven
Your bad ideas are the ATM
Shed my skin
Leave it for the homeless to sleep it
Prodigal, f*ck that nautical
Teachin' b*tches how to swim

I'm in your area, I'm in your area [x2]
I know the first three numbers, I'm in [x2]
I'm in your area, I'm in your area [x2]
I know the first three numbers, I'm in [x2]
(Teachin' b*tches how to swim) [x2]
I'm in
(Teachin' b*tches how to swim) [x2]

Now backstroke
Through your k-hole
Don't run
Ya might slip
The table's flipped now we got all the coconuts b*tch

Burmese babies under each arm
Screamin' beautiful songs
The cray cray ultra contrarion
Havin' conversations with your car alarm
When you come out your sh*t is gone
Soon your crew will be servin' sandwiches named after me
Vietnamese style fool, please

Front row at the mass games
Untraceable by name
You speak of us in certain circles you will be dethroned or detained
Gone, gone
Your sh*t is gone, gone
When you come out your sh*t is gone

I'm in your area, I'm in your area [x2]
I know the first three numbers, I'm in [x2]
I'm in your area, I'm in your area [x2]
I know the first three numbers, I'm in [x2]