Live From Islamabad

by Wombaticus Rex

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1.
02:20
2.
(free) 02:26
3.
02:53
4.
04:20
5.

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released May 5, 2004

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Wombaticus Rex Vermont

Northeast Kingdom. We rap.

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Track Name: Pop Song
I paid enough of my dues to cover a couple hundred of you
so now I'm humping the groove with nothing to prove
nowadays, they want to make the truth illegal
I'm already used to stupid people screaming that my music's evil
this is just a simple statement of fact
to explain and maybe illustrate the place that I'm at
plus a rapping lesson for cats who lack a message
doing tracks directed at wealthy adolescents
I'm not claiming underground to get some sympathy
I'm outside of the game, the culture and the industry
stopped getting blazed and my whole perspective changed
every day I wake up with a little less to say
it takes some work to make a verse I believe in
searching for meaning and murdering my personal demons
that there's a fulltime job with no benefits
flow specialist stay home and compose sentences
I have to assume that I'm up to something good
I get respected even though I'm almost never understood
nine months, flat broke, times up, last hope,
live drums, rap show, cash flow, let me get a
(ah) for my local fans too stoned to dance
(ah) the my farm chicks with the hairy armpits
(ah) I'm just a wombat speaking my mind
I keep it alive and let the people decide
(ah) for all my best brothers and my ex-lovers
(ah) for the whole crowd at this show now
(ah) I'm just a wombat speaking my mind
I keep it alive and let the people decide
Sol Harvest Live --- designated clock stoppers
drop operas all up on top of your blocked chakras
hot topic for trailer parks that want gossip
lost profits --- bestseller to box office
If I get within ten degrees of MTV
I'm gonna get high on expensive weed
burn myself alive in some trendy jeans
and have it televised for my friends to see
said if I get within ten degrees of MTV
I'll have my dad lip sync and pretend it's me
cuz flashy pants and hair can't compare
to my visions of midget strippers and dancing bears
I want naked fat models wearing black goggles
jiggling their asses and smashing glass bottles
tag team apple sauce wrestling with drag queens
on a mission to give good christians bad dreams
I'm talking pink strapons, black and white wigs
we'll build a bonfire and sacrifice pigs
Track Name: Laura Bush
so if I have dreams of licking your thighs
does that somehow mean I'm a typical guy?
cuz see, I was raised up with the hippies and farm kids
I'm harmless...I just wanna sniff your armpits
the fuzzball weirdo, I let my beard grow
to tickle your tummy, buns and earlobes
now, I know they teach you to hate yourself
but we can fix that, and being naked helps
I figure, bodies are boardgames and sex is play
and I got enough food to stay in bed for days
I'm talking goat cheese, fresh pesto, smoked meat
the gourmet with sore legs and soaked sheets
yes indeed I'm kinda freaky but I keep it low key
so let's finish this, go skinny dip and smoke weed
somewhere between sick thoughts and hot fantasies
there's a point where pornography has damaged me
but making excuses is basically useless
cuz I'm still chasing hatian and jamaican masseusses
a big fan of honest and wet quality sex
and if you got a problem with that...call me collect
in this big beautiful world, it takes all kinds
so I leave the small talk to those with small minds
I love the opportunity to shock communities
with constant nudity and tent-hopping promiscuity
so let the music play...let's get stupid blazed
and have giggle fits with hippie chicks who refuse to shave
plus I love to liberate repressed catholics
leave 'em with an open mind and wet mattress
ass rules everything around me
jeans with no undies my baby's on the pill, y'all
it's the normal people who got the dirtiest minds
where being gay is wrong, but murder is fine
this whole country is run by killers and rapists
but I can get arrested just for being naked
here's a little fact you almost never hear
people spend ten billion on porn....every year
bottom line, humans will never be free
until we got no jobs and sex in the streets
so when I'm blowing up and reaching half the nation
I'll do a children's album teaching masturbation
(that's not a threat, that's a promise...)
so if I'm fixated on licking your thighs
does that somehow mean that I'm a typical guy?
Track Name: The Resume
I promise to leave, the crowd too astonished to breathe
for comic relief, I get drunk and vomit emcees
I love repeating rhymes with double meaning
so sick that most of my fans got trouble eating
check the resume, learned to levitate in seventh grade
got addicted to liquid acid mixed with lemonade
I'm sick of tired of spitting written fire
attacking kids with pliers and rolls of chicken wire
I can scream and shout until my veins explode
or juggle dreams around and fingerpaint with flows
leave the heat with the sheep, I pack golossaries
blast philosophy until I'm past the last apostrophe
I may be high tonight, but my advice is act responsibly
and practice constantly to increase your rap velocity
only opinion, just a suggestion
cuz I get the same question so much it's depressing
previous experience with smoking herbs
then choking nerds with ropes of broken verbs
check the resume, man, for most of my life
I been approaching the mic like an explosive device
and I been floating all night...let my flows explore
from the ocean floor to your local grocery store
when I blaze onstage...what a lotta you see?
that's holographic, it's not like my body is me
man made words, words made flesh
flesh made God, God made man
I'm just dropping the truth on top of the groove
and walking you through the cycle of the consciousness loop

slap college kids for perpetuating rap politics
I love my fans but I refuse to have followers
you do not know me, the rhymes I write
are just a tiny slice of what my mind is like
so here's to dudes who refuse to accept reality
I question my talent, sanity and sexuality
I test the limits, thirtyseven's never repetitious
check the physics, I kill God and get religious
bodies get slammed, with the force of ford economy vans
I eat adrenaline from hippopotamus glands
dig: I freak a flow that frightens most professionals
then put some frozen vegetables over my swollen testicles
hands in the pants bandit is back, panic attack
I'm here to hump the drums until my sampler cracks
tarantula rap, you just can't handle the facts
I got eight fuzzy fingers of death, examine the math
previous experience with smoking herbs
then choking nerds with ropes of broken verbs
check the resume, man, for most of my life
I been approaching the mic like an explosive device
and I been floating all night...let my flows explore
from the ocean floor to your local grocery store
when I blaze onstage...what a lotta you see?
that's holographic, it's not like my body is me
man made words, words made flesh
flesh made God, God made man
I'm just dropping the truth on top of the groove
and walking you through the cycle of the consciousness loop