Back & Forth (ft. Abadawn)

by Hives Inquiry Squad

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lyrics

LD: Fox trot tally-ho, shoot 'em up battlezone. Shields ready homie, this is my Alamo! Calico chorus over tin can slaps, got a deuce deuce and a 96 crayon pack. yeah. Straight came with the bang for the buckaroo, Mother Goose gang stringing slang like the W. Volts in the veins pumping juice, Neon Autumn rep, LD be the name. Who the fuck are you?

GT: Bio-mechanoid jazz trumpeter arch angel, a smog halo dangling at an off angle. A dog day for the Earth people, I hit the red button. Eh homie I didn't know, you should of said something. Head buzzing like it's radio waves when crossed wires connect my inner modem straight to the alien brain. Name is John Crichton, quarter cybernetic, fly aesthetic engineer for the times of the hyper head trip.

You can lay low or play with the gun powder bang.
You can get with this shit or get the fuck out the way.

ABA: Mind reading time keeper. I'm in need of sleep after 5 weeks of Minesweeper. Bump it up a notch. High fever, what the bumbaclot? I'm neither man nor machine, steam punk with a busted watch. tick tick BOOM! Doom generation laced with starships and clones, not a soul found that's smarter than their phone. Flew the coup vacation on a bartered loan, martyr poem, carcass on the carpet in his fucking starter home.

LD: Human zoo visit, cigis and Blue Ribbons. Giving a gas face to the news and a few Christians. Couped chickens but the vision is moon mission. Soup kitchen fit but I get it so dude listen. Kumbaya bougie troop bitching. While I be grinning like a goon shroom tripping with the room spinning. Work the tongue like I'm Fu-Schnickens, then coochi coo my boo's kitten, take a lick and get the juice dripping.

You can work all day you can bum round for change.
You can keep it all real you can numb down the brain.
You can lay low or play with that gun powder bang.
You can get with this shit or get the fuck out the way.

ABA: Couldn't kill me if they wanted too, my molecules would just dissolve into space particles and then I'd be beyond anything you think you be on. Meanwhile guttersnipes, wonder why their tongue is tied. I'ma try the otherside and stumble by this puppet life. This ain't Mr. Rogers, I could use that 15 dollars, you could use a slice of humble pie. Fucking fib well lovers lie. How much concentration can you cram into a 'wonder why'? Running 'em by one at a time.

GT: Your cerebral sensory input gets hijacked, turned to virtual reality clips then slanged like dime sacks. I'm lamping in the seedy underbelly. Why? Cause surface culture's gotten really fucking empty. I'm needing something heady, we heard the spirit croon, now I want some music you could do math on a mirror to. Yo fuck with me little baby babylon. We're all going mastadon once they start to drop the atom bombs.

You can work all day you can bum round for change.
You can keep it all real you can numb down the brain.
You can lay low or play with that gun powder bang.
You can get with this shit or get the fuck out the way.

credits

released September 27, 2011
beat: Gavin Theory
lyrics: GT, LD, & ABA
mixed: Gavin Theory
recorded and mastered: Prince Elwood at Portland Underground Recording

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