Lyrics Checkers Aesop Rock

Checkers

You're a prisoner here now

Suit of calluses, active and moving callous
Anomaly in the algorithm, do the algebralculus
I'm all of Alexandria's information in aggregate
Ruling elder giving you the hell that melt the valuables
Riddances, grid at my back, I'm in the diagonals
Evolving, shiv in his back, he shatter the manacles
Man down, damnit, can he manage the variables?
Manually override these overnight Emmanuels
Man, m-m-m-mayday, it's the tapering of the straightaway
The making of a bedlamite, the straightening of the theta wave
Working on a way to cure this sudden inexplicable
Urgency to secure a sure-shot-shaped paperweight
Pay the man, simultaneously in survival mode
And looking like a hundred violations of the fire code
Designed to die alone, moments out the styrofoam
But not before these no-names go the way of the dial tone, don't

Yo, could you do me a favor? Could you go to the Black Hole Superette, please?
And can you grab me any, anything that has a warning label on it that says something bad's gonna happen to you from the product
Can you bring me one of those?
Don't
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't, don't

Staring at the sun until one of us blinks
When it does, I'm running for the tunnels, hater blood in the Krink
Bloody hell, every day, I wake and one-up a king
Whose kingdom come to refer to me as "you wonderful thing"
One of the filthiest fish in the azure
Cut a political actor to particulate matter
Should it present as a pattern, put the pig out to pasture
This ain't that action figure in the original package, we in the shit with the taggers
Bastards and bullies and baddies and bitches and bummers
Who shuffle out of the shadows with the limbs of another
Trapjaw's head, Stay-Puft arms and the cape of Vader
Over rollerblading Barbie with a bow from Hank the Ranger
Bullseyein' danger, I'm a surgeon at seventy yards
As long as the target is not a Snellen chart
Hello from the hell and back to autograph an X-mark
Leaving the treasure for the next man, the best part, don't

Don't show up at the get-down
Talking that holy as if you ain't hell-bound
Similarly, don't show up at the get-up
Talking that hellish as if you ain't blessed up
Just, just don't (Don't)
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't, don't, don't, don't (Just, just don't)
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't, don't

I'm on a higher kinda of prowess
I'm somewhere in the melee while I'm somewhere doing tai chi on a mountain
Only out of bed to pick the lock and smuggle in his Visigoths
Who'd love to redesign the hillside little box by little box
Or get these businesses to page a stranger on they intercoms
The kind that sound real 'til you realize they did you wrong
Oh, this is definitely checkers, I don't play chess
I sack a city, atlases actually weigh less
After, mermaid leather in the truck
It's only in poor taste if you ain't never been the one
Pickle the hand of whoever signal his mans
That's a five-wick candle and a bib in the sand
My advice is don't approach him whether sobbing in the copy room
Or eating hot pretzels in the mezzanine at Nas and Wu
Or at the hobby shop with Hanni copping model glue
Or meeting Bobby at the Bronx Zoo

Don't show up at the get-down
Talking that holy as if you ain't hell-bound
Similarly, don't show up at the get-up
Talking that hellish as if you ain't blessed up
Just, just don't (Don't)
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't, don't, don't, don't (Just, just don't)
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't, don't