Out The Gates (ft. Ghettosocks)
from World War Swamp by Swamp Thing
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about
Here we are at the very end.
Nothing but imaginary friends.
Five steps ahead of the best so that’s nothing.
Nothing but imaginary friends.
We the last one standing
Swamp be the gods with the mask all lampin
Fog and the smoke leave the spliff tall lanky
Ooze from the ground leave ya foot all stanky
Ya robots with the roadblocks
The whip all grey like an old fox
Look me in my chest thats a cold box
Grab em by the horns he a road ox
long face with the chin power
The green lookin dank and it’s been sour
No power on this dead earth
Hole in the ground headin head first
Let’s start shiftin' these tectonics.
Creatures from beyond with the fictional platonic’s.
Johnny Mnemonic into Neo then John wick.
But none of y’all predicted why the future is dog shit.
I’m a grain of sand in this wasteland.
Put the ganja to the grill that’s a face plant.
Take stands so your life won’t change hands.
Or die on the throne like a king in Graceland.
Well amen hallelujah.
Atheist in a foxhole not a tumour.
Watch the rumours bloom until I’m dead and gone.
Lexicon on a whole nother echelon.
never catch me talking to a volleyball
Rip your heart out your chest like Kalima!
great white shark swimming with you pollywogs
Ollie oxenfree watch me lob a Molotov
ride the back of a bantha
The phantom of the tundra cock back the hammer
Ambush a caravan of travellers in camper
Vans midnight marauding for that Ativan
Lonely Sagittarius
Roving adversaries patrol the whole areas
going arial coal mine canaries get
Thrown to the four winds no time to bury shit
i’m like
Steve Buscemi rocking the lipstick the misfits
tee slinks low slipped over the slim fit an
achronistic metalhand rhythms spit
epitaph scriptures with a methodman biscuit
Pretty as a picture little lamb Mary had a
mix up brain matter scalloped with a whisker
hecklers in the stands stay quiet when the Heckler’s in my
hands settle scores while you settlin Catan
uh chop your body like a tomahawk then
exit out the octogon in moccasins of ocelot
i’m gettin top on the autobahn in a
lobster coloured lamborgini countach <autobot>
i ain’t done kid i’m still runnin waves like a
Russianera gunship crushin their assumptions it’s
something like i’m smashing up a pumpkin when i’m bussin if you
fuck wit us i’m runnin in to punch a pair of munchkins
at the very end of the day behave no
wonder we continually eclipsing ya heatwave
vicarious fly chariot styles various
hilarious with them childbearing hips
One way to come out the gates and that’s runnin'.
Too many bubbles to break the wrath’s comin'.
Three for a war that’s so cold you catch something.
Five steps ahead of the best so that’s nothing.
Nothing but imaginary friends.
Five steps ahead of the best so that’s nothing.
Nothing but imaginary friends.
We the last one standing
Swamp be the gods with the mask all lampin
Fog and the smoke leave the spliff tall lanky
Ooze from the ground leave ya foot all stanky
Ya robots with the roadblocks
The whip all grey like an old fox
Look me in my chest thats a cold box
Grab em by the horns he a road ox
long face with the chin power
The green lookin dank and it’s been sour
No power on this dead earth
Hole in the ground headin head first
Let’s start shiftin' these tectonics.
Creatures from beyond with the fictional platonic’s.
Johnny Mnemonic into Neo then John wick.
But none of y’all predicted why the future is dog shit.
I’m a grain of sand in this wasteland.
Put the ganja to the grill that’s a face plant.
Take stands so your life won’t change hands.
Or die on the throne like a king in Graceland.
Well amen hallelujah.
Atheist in a foxhole not a tumour.
Watch the rumours bloom until I’m dead and gone.
Lexicon on a whole nother echelon.
never catch me talking to a volleyball
Rip your heart out your chest like Kalima!
great white shark swimming with you pollywogs
Ollie oxenfree watch me lob a Molotov
ride the back of a bantha
The phantom of the tundra cock back the hammer
Ambush a caravan of travellers in camper
Vans midnight marauding for that Ativan
Lonely Sagittarius
Roving adversaries patrol the whole areas
going arial coal mine canaries get
Thrown to the four winds no time to bury shit
i’m like
Steve Buscemi rocking the lipstick the misfits
tee slinks low slipped over the slim fit an
achronistic metalhand rhythms spit
epitaph scriptures with a methodman biscuit
Pretty as a picture little lamb Mary had a
mix up brain matter scalloped with a whisker
hecklers in the stands stay quiet when the Heckler’s in my
hands settle scores while you settlin Catan
uh chop your body like a tomahawk then
exit out the octogon in moccasins of ocelot
i’m gettin top on the autobahn in a
lobster coloured lamborgini countach <autobot>
i ain’t done kid i’m still runnin waves like a
Russianera gunship crushin their assumptions it’s
something like i’m smashing up a pumpkin when i’m bussin if you
fuck wit us i’m runnin in to punch a pair of munchkins
at the very end of the day behave no
wonder we continually eclipsing ya heatwave
vicarious fly chariot styles various
hilarious with them childbearing hips
One way to come out the gates and that’s runnin'.
Too many bubbles to break the wrath’s comin'.
Three for a war that’s so cold you catch something.
Five steps ahead of the best so that’s nothing.
lyrics
Paul DeFrancesco, Tim Wallace, Justin Lepine, Ward Pitfield, Darren Pyper
credits
from World War Swamp,
released October 29, 2021
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
Swamp Thing Toronto, Ontario
Toronto's three-headed rap monster, Swamp Thing (Timbuktu, Chokeules, & Savilion), have a ritual of delivering dark, b-movie inspired, heavy duty thunderclaps every Halloween.
discography
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Oct 2013
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