Pan Amsterdam x GUTS- Carrot Cake

Pan Amsterdam x GUTS- Carrot Cake [BUY Bandcamp]

I started to miss blogging immediately when I heard this.
Reminding me of MC 900 ft Jesus, whic is one of the biggest compliments I can make.

Just read the lyrics, Pan Amsterdam, hats off!

My girl dressed like a girl,
Cowboy hats boots and Spanish pearls
I see on both sides like Chapelle, See on both sides like Chapelle
The daily planet writes me up well
Hint, Clark Kent slipped and fell
I be the new son of Jor-El
Clean your nose with my new lapel
Flying twice as high with no butterflies in the sky
OD’d and an alibi
Rainbows can’t read and Lavare can’t see
Sue me I’m a trekkie
So dated and rehearsed
And fashionably late
Ill funk like rotten milk and past the expiration date
It’ll make your granny’s cow lactate
Thus old rugs levitate
You’ll wonder why I got apple pie prune juice and carrot cakes
Silly wabbit trix are for kids and I only watch R-rated vids
On VHS blue neon grids
Did you shoot Bambi? Yes, you did.
Don’t worry I won’t tell a soul, underground like Alice in a rabbit hole
Please there’s no need to text us, eavesdrop on you like Alexa
(Come in closer)
Thought it was Wonderland
Data sent to Amazon shamans
Bossa Nova, you a boss huh?
Now you’re deep in the woods on Ayahuasca
(Come in closer)
Burn me out the forest when you’re more harrier than Chuck Norris
Try to control my fate? I'll have a talk with your mum after I’m done with the carrot cake
I’m gonna beat them in the coliseum
A cat will be the witness of my outstanding fitness
Shuffling on em like Ali
Then he'll try to shuffle like me, what a sight to see
(Come in closer)
Because I don’t fight I eat chips and watch a lotta kung fu flicks
Way of the dragon be my profile pic
Fell off the wagon by Daniel’s crane style kick
(Come in closer)
Guts on the beat, we go slumming in Paris throwing daggers at feet
We put the crowd into a sweat lodge dried saliva with a tinge of Fromage
Collage claymation and paper mache
Duchamp this scene like Claude Monet
PO Box number collect cache
Prefer vin rouge to pink rose
I’m topless so you ain’t top of nothing
Spotless in a junkyard eatin’ muffins
A little yeasty
put it back in the oven
BBQ play trumpet like Kermit Ruffins