Tyler Fugazzie

So I connect to which one?
He connects where?
She connects to what?
Does anyone remember who goes where?
Who’s in charge here?

I’ve been through these hundreds of times
It happens to us, we’ll be put back together

This isn’t where I was
Bob’s too far away
Susan lost her sisters
The triceps are connected to the calves
The biceps to the pecs
The quads to the neck
This is a mess 
This is a mess

Okay it screwed us up this time
It’s never done this before
Let’s hold out hope for the next go

Next go comes 
And it’s a mess again
Bob is dead
Susan’s dead
No one knows where the triceps went

The muscles hold a meeting
Decide to rebuild themselves 
But departing from tradition 
They decide to build a city
A real body of work