Letra de 'The Confrontation At Khazad-Dûm' de Milo

I hate Freud because I think he's telling the truth
I don't need to be told I'm an animal trapped in a booth
That's a metaphor for a much lazier writer
In real life I'd get my ass kicked, but never in street fighter
Raps a big pool where's the deep end I'll just wade in
Disappear into the underground like a cone-headed Raiden
I post lectures off temple on monotone laden maiden who's raving he's about to go super saiyan
Son Goku scribed overly wordy haiku's about how I'd rather run instead of fight you
You betchum I'm Ash Ketchum with no Raichu
I kill them with kindness
And just to spite you I have no enemies
Just people who aren't my friends yet
And when they are I'll barrow moneys and never repay the debt
On the freeway you passed me in a bright yellow corvette
And I was peddling a whirlybird invention that I stole from some bloke at the ugly nerd convention in Lowell

It's the return of the king
The third Lord of the...

I don't have a hip-hop career
I have a hobby
Which leaves me unloved like a younger brother Bobby
I'm gathered around grandmothers in a knitting group
As vegetarian at the potlucks so I can only eat the soup
I'm a crummy musician not a conjurer of cheap tricks
I can't purchase a quirky beat at Jo-Anne's Fabrics
I'll never be commonplace with these slow dance mavericks
I could've been a lounge singer in a themed sports bar
Perused my Pokedex to find it wasn't in my cards
I'm beginning to find satisfaction with Futurama repeats
Open folder, my life, program file, dignity, delete
This is for my cats who are obligatorily finishing undergrad
To the the perfect sons for their wonder dad's
I'm no German Wunderkind
I'm a brown kid with a healthy distrust in Republicans
My stomach warns me when trouble is a bubblin'

This is for my brothers slaying mental Balrogs
And my sisters who have to deal with proverbial ball-hogs