MC Frontalot featuring Brad Sucks - "Livin' at the Corner of Dude And Catastrophe" [
LISTEN ]
Livin' At The Corner Of Dude & Catastrophe
[Brad Sucks]
Where I’m livin’, it’s hard to say,
Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
Where I’m livin’, it’s hard to say,
But I'm feelin' fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
[MC Frontalot]
Woke up by the pool again,
Must have played the fool again
Wonder what them hooligans
Put on the grill that stinks
Kind of like burnt fur
And regurg’ed drinks
With an undertone of the acorn
And leather that’s laid on
Thick like Liz Claiborne.
Step over with big trepidation,
Lift up the top off the meat cooking station
To discover my homie Todd
I said “Oh my God
What grim façade
Do you meet me with in my wakefulness?”
I had too many Stellas and they all was crisp
Must I rise up in the morning with my squirrel desisted
From the world, insisted
As I did this instant that
Him up in heaven again is premature?
If only reality would concur!
Poke him with the tongs, dude won’t wake up
Put him on the lawn
Ray’s about to cook a steak up
And this ain’t no kind of mausoleum
Got to get the high degree on
Todd’s onomatopoeia
Got already all used up,
I mean he sizzled.
Ain’t nothing left but char, bone, and gristle.
My heart is fissile,
I mean it could break Like crystal.
He never learned to whistle!
Don’t rake his cadaver up
Whatsamadda with your mind?
He ain’t a lawn clipping
We been knuckleheads since old times
Dig out the batting helmet and the bat
‘Cause we’re all about to have a funeral, and that’s that
We’ll do it after breakfast.
We’ll do it up proper.
We’ll drop all his ashes out the Airwolf copter,
All singing up dirges,
All spreading out blossoms,
And it’s gonna f-f-fu-fu-be frikkin’ awesome!
[Brad Sucks]
Where I’m livin’, it’s hard to say,
Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
Where I’m livin’, it’s hard to say,
But I'm feelin' fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
[MC Frontalot]
Six bong rips later, we ain’t going to the helipad
Standin’ ‘round hella sad,
Wonder where them Stellas at
All these dudes ain’t huge on sentiment,
Still they want to say a little something to the benefit
Of layin’ Todd’s soul to rest.
I cold regressed
Contemplated old regrets
And said “Man why he even got to do a thing
Like pass out on the Bar-B-King?”
I’m tryin’ to bring from like recesses in my mind
A word or two that wouldn’t prove unkind.
Aligned as he was with the less-than-angelic,
Trafficking black tar smack
And psychedelics
In that little-ass van of his
And drunk doing it
Knowing what the right thing to do was but eschewing it,
It’d seem pretty probable
Flames are audible
That’s the doody that Todd’ll pull,
Not just in death, but in after-that,
Like the bat out the h-e-double-vertical-slat
But inbound in the case of this rodent,
Like when he got peeled-out on and ‘sploded,
Or indeed when he got shanked in the joint
Hella causing me to wonder if there’s even a point
To our shepherdly tending
Of his life’s ending
Bet he’s chilling at Friendly’s
And gonna be back in the neighborhood shortly,
Discussing how awesome it is to be portly,
Reporting the slant he just got on with Blister,
Drank till his wrists hurt,
Boned the ghost of your sister.
The dude’s a bucket kickster when he has to be
And this one wasn’t like a masterpiece
So yes, we’re depressed but not drastically...
Livin’ at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
[Brad Sucks]
Where I’m livin’, it’s hard to say,
Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
Where I’m livin’, it’s hard to say,
But I'm feelin' fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
I’ll just wait, waving goodbye until the next time.