Ahistorical - you think this shit just dropped right out of the sky    My analysis: it's time to harvest the crust from your eyes    To surge and refine, to rage and define ourselves against your line    So sorry friend but you must resign    You want to figure it out we'll throw down, we'll throw down    Wou want to figure it out well throw down your bulldog front    Bold bold mouthtalking not so bold now that you've eaten your own    Lips flecked, mouthspecked you strip the skin right off of the bone    And I would never say you act without precision or care,    But it's all attention to armor, to the armor you wear so well    Let's knock and check to see if there's somebody home