Ahistorical - you think this shit just dropped right out of the sky
  My analysis: it's time to harvest the crust from your eyes
  To surge and refine, to rage and define ourselves against your line
  So sorry friend but you must resign
  You want to figure it out we'll throw down, we'll throw down
  Wou want to figure it out well throw down your bulldog front
  Bold bold mouthtalking not so bold now that you've eaten your own
  Lips flecked, mouthspecked you strip the skin right off of the bone
  And I would never say you act without precision or care,
  But it's all attention to armor, to the armor you wear so well
  Let's knock and check to see if there's somebody home