Retarded Fren - Thom Yorke & Jonny Greeenwood Version

An honest day's work for an honest day's pay Stay taking wages the anonymous way Calmish, pay to the Amish selling Promise me gold bond, palm itch swelling With no tact, though, ipso facto Wondering in pictures why his lips is so black, yo! No question, an ounce of prevention Is more than a pound of raw cure pure intention Attention! No throwing stones at the homeless Or else ye yeself may end up with your dome blessed Chrome dust, nano-sized particles Stop telling codes through the YouTube, retarded fools! Defeats the purpose Greedily slurp up the surplus and burp puss So nervous, you can hear the shirt must gush Hush, hush. Trust. Villain til' the Earth crust bust Dead drop, leave it right there Chop it off, heads bop, breathe it like air You hear? Study the devil Played the game and choose to do so on a bloody level Who sent him? Steady losing momentum Oh, eat a rapper one-a-day like Centrum The mask is like a Gundam, dumb-dumb um And it don't matter where you come from, you bum! What happens when the poles shift? Won't matter for shit who you roll with Cold and stiff, hold the if If in case you need a facelift sold a gift Rip it like space time foam, fold the rift The sun still shines in the morning He ain't promising more, but it's definitely scorching Like an iceball, off guard, soft, hard Ask him do he give an F like report card Out-spit em' like Jonah Add bonuses, intel suggests they had no cojoneses On this microphone business, it's slaughter That's on his 3 pre-mature daughters' aortas The thought was, uh, quarters, halfs, wholes A roll. Like good times sold like good dimes It's just begun to began to begin To end, to start back again for smarter men and his retarded Fren