| Song | Mars Attacks |
| Artist | Aesop Rock |
| Album | Bazooka Tooth |
| These lil', lil' fuckin' | |
| Martians You gotta love em' though | |
| Mars attacks wit' electric gats | |
| Not for sapien abduction (what's up then?!) | |
| Billy took a laser to the mug piece; hallowed out the mandible | |
| Channel headquarters order the cannonballs (Mars attacksssss) | |
| We have high demands column to this pigeon ankle | |
| And boomeranging' our harvest; 51st area sickness | |
| Not a threat, an area witness won't injure the promise | |
| Monster lead- carry your ligament fanged in the mosh pit | |
| Dodge vapor, labor days are major | |
| A sir Cater the alien decomposer soldier platter like cabbage check eight | |
| I told her "go for C4 magic's" | |
| Smolder as the | |
| Bazooka Tooth holster fabric (This fucker's rabid and still breathing!) (Hiding cabbage!) | |
| Oh, the heater claps to leave me | |
| I'ma ninja this shit wit' sugar in the fuel tank of a saucer | |
| Buddy up and head down to the metal corporate tunnels | |
| Ice pick the soldered ship wiring; pissed of the mother and um, | |
| I'd be lying if | |
| I said I knew your intentions | |
| See my sexy sabotage seeks defensive action to save the race | |
| You land in hand on board to mention magma (Blaze the place!) | |
| Red five revival there's wires in the bible | |
| Obviously, ultra take advance when | |
| I point counterpoint | |
| Comparison of | |
| ET verse little old freak me (She be on somethin') | |
| Hey riddle sweet peas wit' your nickel | |
| PCs; fickle | |
| CDs, miserable | |
| TV sitcom (typical!) | |
| Pathetic. | |
| Ritual. Collective slackership | |
| Beautiful establishment; you aint established shit! | |
| I consider you foul | |
| Prowl back to the numbers under burnt pride in the dark (sup yall!) | |
| They want us dead or alive without the 'aliiivee' | |
| Part The sun rose over a body bag shortage | |
| Last week | |
| I was like 'god bless the saint that invented the cordless' | |
| This week | |
| I saw the re-wrap of the bull's-eye of my worship | |
| Temple body slash bull-cabinet | |
| Mastermind diversions (Fuck yall!) | |
| Lets do this shit, my movement soothes any space invader practice | |
| Stomped under enemy like "Hey what now, bitch!?" | |
| Hiding human hear me rise above material and cardinal sin | |
| They shot me in the face | |
| Mars wins (X5) (Puffin' smoke) | |
| Run around with your face on fire (Jet-black smoke on the horizon) | |
| Black smoke in the air. | |
| Maaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrsssss wins! (I thought you would like it) (We gon' make it) | |
| Who you screaming at dog? | |
| I got this! (Lets go) | |
| Zig zag zookah, pinnacle stitch | |
| Unleash the unlimited edish primitive piss | |
| I'm singin' cynical maybe the most military ops | |
| Monkey! Here's elephant, and it drops | |
| We on a three-ringed prong ancient elephant tusk | |
| Bitter, at fully (break bread!) you shruggin' it off | |
| Keep it electric, sure, | |
| But NY Electra's not about electric wars | |
| Never seen a poor man's glimpse set fake (Last page!) | |
| Three, two, one, domesticate! | |
| In the corner of the cave reinventing the wheel and roll out funny | |
| Sittin' on them | |
| Barney Rubble twenties, subtle | |
| Sippin' Saber tooth blood puddle- | |
| I could roll with the lackey's, that's if we hustle | |
| Knuckle in the mud, hell's bells in the chuckle.. | |
| Red-berried face means smugger round the muzzle | |
| I'm allergic to the now-born solo panel cutters stole quo to the core (dirt mess!) | |
| Stone cold's hands out core cryogenics, stubborn | |
| Can't talk shit wit' a tongue full a' rug burn! | |
| Bad cholesterol through blood sugar | |
| Four-piece heartbeats wit' a subwoofer! | |
| I'm not asking you to act like you notice (Oh Aesop's SO Mesozoic.) | |
| Now what if in the cabin built the old pulping? | |
| Opened the mirror, stole a pulse with the voltage | |
| Keeping me alive is the vibe with the | |
| Vulcan's (hope!) | |
| I'm the divine catapult (Catapult!) | |
| I break it down to the bunk for the crooks wit' the goals of the age old | |
| Eat. Sleep. | |
| Fuck. Structural droids; more bangs for the buck | |
| But they want a last stegosaurs - thorns in the glove (buck wit' it!) | |
| Prehistoric land shark business, cradling the arms of the car man's kidney | |
| Swarm to the sickly thawed out the glacier | |
| Beggin' for the freezer burn; back every day sir! | |
| Sir, your science loves to fuck nature | |
| Sir, your right to the dawn of my day sir | |
| Sir, your violent laugh homing beacon's never set; | |
| Who chase till we all catch vapors | |
| Don't call it a sound-off, "Mars Attacks" be the malarkey downfall | |
| It's not a game no more, run from the flash, leave your penny at the door | |
| A lot of magic gadgets; give em' all back just to nullify the savage | |
| Mic's crumble we be rockin' right; in the year of the | |
| Troglodyte | |
| Saw a grey mouse rabid poured on a board to the dull morose world like a lull in a storm | |
| And I know you was hopin' that the piece for the ox was a dull sword, ah (Guess what, it's not!) | |
| Guess what else, | |
| I transmit from the block! | |
| T-Rex - X- | |
| Ray with triple | |
| X Hex (give it up!) | |
| For the yesterdays, or the next | |
| I can assure you if the | |
| RZA got the sword, (dead flesh!) | |
| Aint no time left. (Keep ya head up now) | |
| Maaaaarrrrrrrrssss wins! (I thought you would like it) | |
| Your head will be down in the dirt | |
| We'll end it real quick | |
| Maaaaarrrrrrrrssss wins! (See how strong you are then..) | |
| Your head down with a mouth full of pebbles | |
| That's it man, no time left. | |
| Ya’ll keep talkin'. | |
| It'll get you nowhere... |
| These lil', lil' fuckin' | |
| Martians You gotta love em' though | |
| Mars attacks wit' electric gats | |
| Not for sapien abduction what' s up then?! | |
| Billy took a laser to the mug piece hallowed out the mandible | |
| Channel headquarters order the cannonballs Mars attacksssss | |
| We have high demands column to this pigeon ankle | |
| And boomeranging' our harvest 51st area sickness | |
| Not a threat, an area witness won' t injure the promise | |
| Monster lead carry your ligament fanged in the mosh pit | |
| Dodge vapor, labor days are major | |
| A sir Cater the alien decomposer soldier platter like cabbage check eight | |
| I told her " go for C4 magic' s" | |
| Smolder as the | |
| Bazooka Tooth holster fabric This fucker' s rabid and still breathing! Hiding cabbage! | |
| Oh, the heater claps to leave me | |
| I' ma ninja this shit wit' sugar in the fuel tank of a saucer | |
| Buddy up and head down to the metal corporate tunnels | |
| Ice pick the soldered ship wiring pissed of the mother and um, | |
| I' d be lying if | |
| I said I knew your intentions | |
| See my sexy sabotage seeks defensive action to save the race | |
| You land in hand on board to mention magma Blaze the place! | |
| Red five revival there' s wires in the bible | |
| Obviously, ultra take advance when | |
| I point counterpoint | |
| Comparison of | |
| ET verse little old freak me She be on somethin' | |
| Hey riddle sweet peas wit' your nickel | |
| PCs fickle | |
| CDs, miserable | |
| TV sitcom typical! | |
| Pathetic. | |
| Ritual. Collective slackership | |
| Beautiful establishment you aint established shit! | |
| I consider you foul | |
| Prowl back to the numbers under burnt pride in the dark sup yall! | |
| They want us dead or alive without the ' aliiivee' | |
| Part The sun rose over a body bag shortage | |
| Last week | |
| I was like ' god bless the saint that invented the cordless' | |
| This week | |
| I saw the rewrap of the bull' seye of my worship | |
| Temple body slash bullcabinet | |
| Mastermind diversions Fuck yall! | |
| Lets do this shit, my movement soothes any space invader practice | |
| Stomped under enemy like " Hey what now, bitch!?" | |
| Hiding human hear me rise above material and cardinal sin | |
| They shot me in the face | |
| Mars wins X5 Puffin' smoke | |
| Run around with your face on fire Jetblack smoke on the horizon | |
| Black smoke in the air. | |
| Maaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrsssss wins! I thought you would like it We gon' make it | |
| Who you screaming at dog? | |
| I got this! Lets go | |
| Zig zag zookah, pinnacle stitch | |
| Unleash the unlimited edish primitive piss | |
| I' m singin' cynical maybe the most military ops | |
| Monkey! Here' s elephant, and it drops | |
| We on a threeringed prong ancient elephant tusk | |
| Bitter, at fully break bread! you shruggin' it off | |
| Keep it electric, sure, | |
| But NY Electra' s not about electric wars | |
| Never seen a poor man' s glimpse set fake Last page! | |
| Three, two, one, domesticate! | |
| In the corner of the cave reinventing the wheel and roll out funny | |
| Sittin' on them | |
| Barney Rubble twenties, subtle | |
| Sippin' Saber tooth blood puddle | |
| I could roll with the lackey' s, that' s if we hustle | |
| Knuckle in the mud, hell' s bells in the chuckle.. | |
| Redberried face means smugger round the muzzle | |
| I' m allergic to the nowborn solo panel cutters stole quo to the core dirt mess! | |
| Stone cold' s hands out core cryogenics, stubborn | |
| Can' t talk shit wit' a tongue full a' rug burn! | |
| Bad cholesterol through blood sugar | |
| Fourpiece heartbeats wit' a subwoofer! | |
| I' m not asking you to act like you notice Oh Aesop' s SO Mesozoic. | |
| Now what if in the cabin built the old pulping? | |
| Opened the mirror, stole a pulse with the voltage | |
| Keeping me alive is the vibe with the | |
| Vulcan' s hope! | |
| I' m the divine catapult Catapult! | |
| I break it down to the bunk for the crooks wit' the goals of the age old | |
| Eat. Sleep. | |
| Fuck. Structural droids more bangs for the buck | |
| But they want a last stegosaurs thorns in the glove buck wit' it! | |
| Prehistoric land shark business, cradling the arms of the car man' s kidney | |
| Swarm to the sickly thawed out the glacier | |
| Beggin' for the freezer burn back every day sir! | |
| Sir, your science loves to fuck nature | |
| Sir, your right to the dawn of my day sir | |
| Sir, your violent laugh homing beacon' s never set | |
| Who chase till we all catch vapors | |
| Don' t call it a soundoff, " Mars Attacks" be the malarkey downfall | |
| It' s not a game no more, run from the flash, leave your penny at the door | |
| A lot of magic gadgets give em' all back just to nullify the savage | |
| Mic' s crumble we be rockin' right in the year of the | |
| Troglodyte | |
| Saw a grey mouse rabid poured on a board to the dull morose world like a lull in a storm | |
| And I know you was hopin' that the piece for the ox was a dull sword, ah Guess what, it' s not! | |
| Guess what else, | |
| I transmit from the block! | |
| TRex X | |
| Ray with triple | |
| X Hex give it up! | |
| For the yesterdays, or the next | |
| I can assure you if the | |
| RZA got the sword, dead flesh! | |
| Aint no time left. Keep ya head up now | |
| Maaaaarrrrrrrrssss wins! I thought you would like it | |
| Your head will be down in the dirt | |
| We' ll end it real quick | |
| Maaaaarrrrrrrrssss wins! See how strong you are then.. | |
| Your head down with a mouth full of pebbles | |
| That' s it man, no time left. | |
| Ya' ll keep talkin'. | |
| It' ll get you nowhere... |