Pen's Oil-Busdriver

(Radioinactive) I want to welcome me to your country It's far too crowded for me to be here But I don’t wanna be there But I just got there But I don’t wanna ask to be re-routed on the first day of this month's Armageddon Writing speeches with unleavened pencil Rewrite the scrolls of history In the dark with a flashlight whispering to myself and the other diplomats from Switzerland Me and my constituents And Dan Rather We like to gather And run the world with the help of a motherboard and a back scratcher God’s computer I drink a Vodka shooter Out of an antique auctioned Luger With a bunch of cranky cop recruiters I offer the future in an office With a t-shirt that buttons up Just because the world runs on oil Doesn’t mean oilmen should run the world Just because the sky’s my paved road Doesn’t mean you should pave a road over the sky (Busdriver) My mom is an enthusiastic movie actress who’s in to pop-culture ethnic cleansing Genetic blending of Mouseketeers who smile from ear to ear For thousands of years Step-an’-Fetch-it’s make the crowd cheer Now human shield street promoters will sleep over and dry your hair with a leaf blower If you don’t know the secret code word Then don't reorder our albums that contain three leaf clovers that give relief to ulcers Did you know American and British royal fam will lick your oil pan and equate a suicide bomber with a loyal fan? File a lawsuit They’re looking out for the interest of a small group of Illuminati lineage first-born male with horns and a tail (Radioinactive) Pumping gasoline… how much do you want? Fill it up and clean the windshield with a rag You’ll need a quart-of-oil My name is Clinton Moil I’m not from foreign soil I’ve used a car antenna as a fencing foil Sounds like your engine coil will make your grandson’s attention boil Contribute and give me the rest of the money before you go to the Statue of Liberty restroom honey I need to go inside of the store to get you some gum cause your breath smells like the Exxon Valdez oil spill Free with the use of a Nascar gas-card It's a page-turner Where the red fern grows fuel for the bedroom stove Rock the vote with your broccoli coat (Busdriver) Wouldn’t you like to be posing nude in front of frozen food Hook Line And sinker but a bookbinder thinker might blow a fuse When a tube sock hand puppet pontificates I seek a boom-box sand bucket and song-listed tapes from autistic apes who soul search without spoonfuls from a fat-free yogurt hunger strike From a covert bunker site Testing biological warfare Watch the tv screen spectacle until you’re a squeaky-clean edible leafy green vegetable or a couch potato spud with 'say no to drugs' embroidered in your throw pillows Cold chills go through your arthritic metacarpals The idea’s that you’ll get to move into your sandcastle by pressing buttons Branded cattle with a set of instructions of how to turn a tv dryer and washer into a flying saucer But not without being rushed to an eye doctor Cause I’m not wrap so tight Exacta knife cut retina of an adult industry smut-peddler’s mud-wrestler