Y’all want to see tits and ass,nStreet grit and sassnAs beatniks smoking grass on holidayn-You know what we want- nYou’re looking for a grievance to mask, preferably with a fetus in the trashnWhile you eat quiche and laugh on the Champs-Elyseen-You know what we want-nI’m not down with that B-list staff,nAs they yell out Jesus at massnI’ll be laughing while I knead this mish-mash of pottery clayn-You know what we want-nAn appropriated grease-slick slab, posted up as a meat stick addnBut I make the average moviegoer too seasick and sadn-You know what we want-nAnd I’m too caustic to run, for office or be expungednFor my agnostic plungen-You know what we want-nSo what I’ve accomplish and done, is viewed as an off-setted punnBy the posh and young tastemakersn-You know what we want-nAn overdone tame premise,nI jump from the plane wreckagenUnscaved yet sunbathed in the rigors of a bass pluckn-You know what we want-nPop culture’s lame vestiges, I’m an ordained pessimistnWith hippie-qualms andnsticky bombs to deter the tank-trucknI’m good for a belly laughnCovered in a blanket of ashnLeaving with an ankle castnBut sometimes I feel that…nnI don’t have what you wantnSo won’t you accept my humble offeringsnBroken TV sets as ethereal driftwoodnWhen you’re on the plan alive with water wings nYou’ll think,n‘I didn’t know surrendering felt this good’nI don’t have what you wantnSo won’t you accept my humble offeringsnnThey want semantics and snivelingnGrams to sniff on a triple-beamnTo be hand-picked for a little scenenIn a student filmnAll I have is pamphlets full of liberal zingnAntihistamines in a syringe-slingnA shanty for this fitted kingnOf uprooted elmnAnd they’ve been given solar-powered carsnTrail mix and power barsnUpturned tarot cardsnThey want to be heralded by wishful teensnIn stretch-Hummers and limousinesnThey’re beyond medicinal meansn-You know what we want-nBut I gave them a protagonistnThe color of cinnamon and mahoganynfiltered through award-winning cinematographynAnd the motherfucking discography of a GnIf you don’t like it then kick rocksnI’m pre-history’s disc-jocknYeah, I know what you wanted homienbut I never had the shit in-stocknnI don’t have what you wantnSo won’t you accept my humble offeringsnBroken TV sets as ethereal driftwoodnWhen you’re on the plane alive with water wingsnYou’ll think,n’I didn’t know surrendering felt this good’nI don’t have what you wantnSo won’t you accept my humble offerings…n