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p.b.k. [pink bunny killer] - jak tripper lyrics

(d-mn you, rabbit. you smell like f-cking p-ss! you can kiss my -ss! i hate the godd-mned rabbit. f-cking rabbit! i don’t like rabbits coming to my f-cking house. i k!ll! he looks like a queer rabbit! all queer! that f-g! he can kiss my -ss! rabbits are queers! they always got to sh-t on themselves! i hate f-cking rabbit.) [sample from harmony korine’s 1997 film “gummo]

since um, (yeah so um) we’re all in highschool, (blah blah blah) we’re all gonna gossip and talk about eachother (blah blah blah), i figured i’d p-ss the note in cl-ss (yeah), ’cause i got something to say (bro, really, so, everything alright there) repping j23 (oh), virus crew word. so (here) check it

cute little collection of cd babies, these seats put together
i don’t believe in vampires i create them
i’m blowing the calcium from the bones off these torso feathers
so angels don’t exist any lesser
symposium lectures where i don’t throw out subliminals (nope)
f-ck fake juice crew creative, hated with every syllable
they shouldn’t even be considered a name in the matrix
drinking spermatozoon minerals tossed from the broke lover’s laying condom, saggy dripping goo
thrown out car windows used
these words of a felony criminal
poison testers, here’s some black widow juice
take that wasted breath, nothing new (no)
look at me new york (look), i just herbed a crew (haha)
wannabe ?? with spray cans and an uptight jersey dude
repping bk i never heard of you (who)
yeah i’m sc-m of the earth
you got my impressions of c-m on your shirt after the luminol
don’t ask me if i’m down with groups at all (yeah)
let alone these young generation-y, puke and gall
you got my attention, barely, boxguts’ forced me to check it
the side camera shot method’s the best angle is my b-lls under phallus erected
apparel is the only way you boasting off methods
folklore, focus on presence, ??
when your swine herd’s flesh is stretched and patched together like a cape draped from a lion crest
i’mma chest around the back, upon entrance (holla), howl back
i’m off probation 2010, i’ll catch you tagging with friends
look what i did, one visit influenced a sorry life
doing shrooms and acid for trends
get your own formulas, don’t ask to get in
(bunnies, bunnies)

happy little bunnies rap
hopping little bunnies hop
scattered little bunnies dash
hanging little bunnies smashed
skinning little bunnies hung
gutting little bunnies guts
[repeat]

i’ll bash the clock’s face
i sleep on a razor, and crawl like fleas in a rut
i write to stop pain
i send intimate vibrations of the final cell to rock waves and liquid skies
i kick it like i was the mathematical god brain
i don’t need hybrid pot strains to picture death
my brush strip and exquisite genocide of quasi-artificial indie spitters dead
on the strawberry fields, snowing b-tterflies with wilted wings, which are p-ssed out of a wizard’s head
flash card intervals of psychedelia
anti-religious ??, anti-wiccan pledge
slaughter up innocent goth chicken nests
unspeakable satanic insistent of haphazard and different views
of one who’s judged and sick expressed
i crash societal tea parties brewing in government kitchen hex
burn beards of moribund shrubs, intertwined with fines and twisted sects
construct descriptive s-x of intimate art positions
suspended with cheap carcases breeding flies stript of flesh
including slide show clips of incest, blood brother and sister s-x
f-cking direct, i hate the planet
tongue whittle thread, like lines h-t veins
intricate with hands of a watch maker with a syringe sticking pins in winding septs
i swallow upper torsos so the side of her neck has rib indents
i’m not stuck underground ’cause it’s cool (no)
i’m ducking from burough traps
neuros snapped, leaving your cute quaint little coloss of bland mural smashed
f-ck fashionable metros-xual rural puppet show host bureaucrats
save that emo fad leather belt goth black gog for the eurotrash
i found the cure in tabs
i splash the biological blood, wash in urine bath
entrepreneurial track
wild shroom hunt, dig up your whole patch
gulf down plural caps
my followers back my belief behind a balcony podium flowing with the furor’s wrath

happy little bunnies rap
hopping little bunnies hop
scattered little bunnies dash
hanging little bunnies smashed
skinning little bunnies hung
gutting little bunnies guts
[repeat 3 more times]

(oh looking at the little f-g bunny, f-cking rabbit i’m sick and tired of him. this sh-tty–ss rabbit stinks! “i know.” he smells like an -sshole! “hey motherf-cker!” smell like a pound of bullsh-t! i’ve had enough of that queer -ss rabbit.) [more from gummo]

- jak tripper lyrics

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