Insects Don't Know (Space Cigale Mix) Video (MV)

At the speed of thought quick before the light comes in
Where the weed I bought is mixed with the nitrogen
Where the seed is caught sick with your siphoning
And my needs are taught stick with the frightening
I scoop with intentions of rising high up
I dream of big pensions, my jets will fly up
But I've seen my contentions get sick and dry up
With no further inventions to flip and fry up
Complex detections do not mix my words up
Abstract deflections, when you spit your turds up
First second third up, now I'm getting stirred up
Heard what the blurb was, the murder make me nervous
So please don't disturb us, to quick to be frivolous
It nips when you nibble us, So plainly ridiculous
No need to try and riddle us the earth will diminish us whilst steadily fulfilling us
With cunning cunnilingus
Put that Charles Mingus, and tap with ya fingers
Old jazz singers, with feelings that sting us
So bring us some more tracks stacked on my plate please
Ecoute shoot my loop and I sample with great ease
It looks like ill take these, shake my hand and make peace
Smile and say cheese, but never gonna pay fees
Tired of the same jeans
Wired from the hashish
Drunk from the pastis

I'm so humble I be mumbling and bumbling
Get me in the jungle you'd be sure that id be grumbling
Bumping on the drum within, the sound of the thundering
Bundle up the batch of the thoughts I've been wondering
Stick to my text like I'm born with reflex
Since the dawn of t-rex I've been bouncing my cheques
Skip to the next like this music kills stress
Like I blew my finesse when I pursue happiness
Ramble with the tangle and I angle my neuroticus
Sample on the tango and I wangle my hipnoticus
Bashing on my cash flow until its sounding ominous
Mashing up my melodies until they sound harmonious
A hundred people round me and I'm bound to be the loneliest
Don't eat for a week I still creep at my boniest
Dissect in three step and perfect my slow flow
Research, go berserk and rework my own show
Insects don't know about wet paint and windows
Only my kinfolk get all my in jokes
Moving through the boundaries, I lost my brain and found a piece
So if you like the sound of these, I'll sell it for a pound a piece
So humble I be mumbling and bumbling
Get me in the jungle you'd be sure that id be grumbling
Bumping on the drum within, the sound of the thundering
Bundle up the batch of the thoughts I've been wondering