Odd Music

Everything is a Lot (Remastered)

Skeleton Appreciation Day In Vestal, New York (Bones) (Remastered)

Lyrics:

I stretch arms as I wake up 

Day fantastic tryna find a way to get the cake up 

Roll another Dutch and now I’m baked 

Time to take the bud and leave the city shaked 

The records finna play put the needle in its place 

Don’t put your fingers on this case 

They jury made the verdict that he leave it where it stay 

Don’t need it everyday

Riding round the town I’m bumping doom 

Girl calling what it do 

 asked to Put some magic in her  ass just like she boofin shrooms 

Stomach hurting need some 

Mmhm food

Back to racks a change of subject change my mood


It’s what the money do  

Fuck the conversation

Words cause desperation

The words you use   hold different connotations 

Then your statements

I can’t tell sincerely if you niggas out here faking

Full of bullshit but your soul is feeling Vacant 

Hate your lifestyle then you should change it 

Fears  your opposition you should face it

What's a rapper niggas drop the label when  adjacent

To the money Cotton in the bills but nigga  pick to chase it

Cause in the end we all slaves and can't nobody change it

GREEN PU PLATTER (PRODUCED BY METAL FINGERS)

Chemical Overreaction/Compound Fracture by Will Wood and the Tapeworms, from Everything is a Lot.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKYiUcHyGIA

Nettles on my saddle and a badge on my vest, better bet I’ll never settle and I never could rest. 
Till the sunrise dies and sets in the west, a rattlesnake bite and a bullet in my chest. 
I won’t stop to drop to draw a line in the sand, ‘cause I’ll be picked apart to pieces by coyotes, I’m a lizard in the hand of the medicine man who is the wizard of the land on wild peyote. 
Woah. 
Aye aye, I eye my eyes, I’m gaining traction. 
Aye aye, I eye my eyes, I’m taking action. 
Aye aye, I eye my eyes, no more distractions. 
I’m done relaxing. I am a chemical reaction. 
Bienvenidos a la villa de arañas españas, where the sentimental value of the city around you is deleted obsolete and still completely will stun you, I’m tripping like a klutz and I’m rolling like thunder. 
I’m a snot nosed pothead playing with matches, a rotten spot of mold with my hands on a cactus. My mouth is dry and my eyes are red, I’m chewing on sand ‘cause the desert’s in my head. 
Aye aye, I eye my eyes, I’m gaining traction. 
Aye aye, I eye my eyes, I’m taking action. 
Aye aye, I eye my eyes, no more distractions. 
I’m done relaxing. I am a chemical reaction. 
Wretch and pule this panoramic, stretched out view is fat with panic. 
Precognition lacks in hindsight, we caught the illness back before the twilight. 
I might be a saint worth steeples, I might be the brain of evil. 
Bad things happen to good people, good things happen to me.


Chemical Overeaction/Compound Fracture

Red Moon by Will Wood and the Tapeworms from Everything is a Lot. ©2015

Red, red moon. Keep on rising. 
The sunset soon indeed will bleed in my horizon. 
The crescent rests, tethered to the west. 
Waxing to the rhythm writhing in my chest. 
That crack between the watercolor sky and sea is the 
corner where you’re born in the mist. 
I might deride the tide, ‘cause I’m pulled as it pools about my feet. 
Towards your stolen light, while you’re holding my slight gravity. 

Well I walk the equator, chasing the light; little do I know it orbits close behind. 
I might remember or might assume, but I only turn around every once 
In a red, red moon. I only turn around every once in a red, red, moon. 

Red, red moon. When will your shadows break? 
Tell the truth; what’re you hiding behind that face? 
If matters in then I might space out, 
why can’t I take in what you’ve been putting out? 
Why do I reject while you endlessly reflect? 
While you’re projecting your perfection astounds 
Nighttime, please hide my eyes, so the man up there won’t watch me stare. 
Teach me to make moonshine, and we’ll get drunk on the spirit of the air. 

Well I walk the equator, chasing the light; little do I know it orbits close behind. 
I might remember or might assume, but I only turn around every once 
In a red, red moon. I only turn around every once in a red, red, moon. 

The constellations form infinite paisleys in the sky 
The condensation tumbles down and erases my sight 
And is it in the nightmare map of the cosmos up high? 
Or is it in the signs? Or stranger still, just in my eyes? 

Well I walk the equator, chasing the light; little do I know it orbits close behind. 
I might remember or might assume, but I only turn around every once 
In a red, red moon. I only turn around every once in a red, red, moon.

GREEN PU PLATTER (PRODUCED BY METAL FINGERS)

T.J.R