Lyrics
[Intro] [Verse 1] The fan blade still clicking No warp from a bottle Darnell through last summer Darnell gone now Everybody gone now (Yeah) [Chorus] Whoa, wake up to the ceiling fan clicking like a countdown One warp blade from a bottle, that's the last round Darnell lived through this wrong now he underground Wilmington and 130 feet where they put him down [Verse 2] She stuck to my back with the sweat that smells like pennies Hennessy still on the nightstand, bottle almost empty Same brand, same brand like the liquor store got plenty But the corner store bread is running low, feel me? Freeway sitting two miles out like a fence I can't climb Concrete in my chest setting hard at every time I lay here dreaming 'bout a home run I never touched 23 years at the window, close enough To see the cars leave, watch the taillights turn to dust Skin on inside out, everybody see the guts, uh [Chorus] [bass and drums continue, gospel harmonies] Concrete setting in my chest, uh Copper taste, I can't spit clean We just Meatsuit, throwaway flesh Saturday don't even make the screen Tell me who gon' count the bodies? Who gon' say we had a name? Meatsuit, throwaway flesh Every weekend, same bloodstain [Verse 3] TV on in the kitchen, anchor lady say the number six Six shot overnight and mama don't even twitch Same face she had for Darnell, same she had for Little Rob Same she wore for Junior when that stray became his job She pours my coffee, I can taste the rust in metal Says "You eating?" and I say "Nah," she don't settle Says "You should eat," but her voice is an empty kettle All the steam burned off, just tin rattling tin I stare through the kitchen window at the overpass Right there, two miles, same distance, 23 and last Time I checked it hasn't moved and neither have I Compton or Chicago, same body count, same lie Dogson prayers on abandoned, nobody hangs Just the clicking fan, the coffee rust, the same flats [Chorus] Concrete setting in my chest, copper taste, I can't spit clean I'm the Meatsuit, throwaway flesh Sitting in the dead man's machine Tell me who gon' count my body? Who gon' say I had a name? Meatsuit, throwaway flesh Fan still clicks, nothing changed [Outro] [drums and bass fade, electric piano and clicking continue] I find his keys on the hook by the door Car still burnt out front, nobody moved it Three weeks and nobody moved it I sit in the driver seat and it smells like that cheap cologne You bought at the swap meet Sprayed too much 'cause he said it made him smell Like he was already somewhere else The rearview mirror got a crack running through it I adjust it, my face splits in half I don't know which half is me And which half is him [beat cuts out, clicking stops]