[Hook: Barreling chase-rap male MC, shouted, full chest] Spin it on the ribs, it's music to the bone Cut it in the basement where the pipes all moan Hand it in a coat, never use a phone Spin it on the ribs, it's music to the bone [Verse 1: Barreling chase-rap male MC, barreling, fast and loud] City hall passed it on a Tuesday in the rain Loud music outlawed, put the speakers on a chain But I found a dumpster back of County General Wing Full of old X-rays like a treasure for a king Broken arms, cracked skulls, a ribcage and a spine Held 'em to the light and I saw every groove of mine Built a lathe from a sewing machine and a fan Cutting songs into bones with a needle and a plan [Hook: Barreling chase-rap male MC, shouted, full chest] Spin it on the ribs, it's music to the bone Cut it in the basement where the pipes all moan Hand it in a coat, never use a phone Spin it on the ribs, it's music to the bone [Verse 2: Barreling chase-rap male MC, barreling, faster] Officer Brandt on my heels for a year Long gray coat and a jaw like a gear Raided my cousin, kicked his door in like that Found a broken pelvis in a pizza box flat Chased me through the market, chased me through the yards Chased me through the subway past the sleeping guards I could hear him breathing like a train on a hill Every corner that I turned, he was gaining still Sold 'em by the dozen out the lining of my coat Grandma's hip, a kid's wrist, every one of 'em a note [Bridge: Barreling chase-rap male MC, ribcage playback, the song crackles in at half volume, then slams to full] Drop the needle on the chest of a man I never knew And his ribs go round and the song comes through Crackle on the lungs and a heartbeat in the groove Somebody's x-ray making the whole block move [Verse 3: Barreling chase-rap male MC, barreling, cornered, full force] Dead end alley, there's a fence and a wall Brandt coming slow and I got nowhere to crawl Hands up high and he's reaching for the cuffs Grabs the record off my chest, says "kid, that's enough" Holds it to the streetlight and he stands like a stone There's a name on the edge, and the name is his own Same busted ribs from the night he got shot Three cracks on the left where the bullet ran hot Spins it on my hand-crank with the rain in the groove Hears my verse in his bones and he can't even move Steps aside slow, says "run, kid, run" And I'm gone through the gap like a shot from a gun [Final Hook: Barreling chase-rap male MC, shouted, full chest] Spin it on the ribs, it's music to the bone Cut it in the basement where the pipes all moan Hand it in a coat, never use a phone Spin it on the ribs, it's music to the bone [Outro: Barreling chase-rap male MC, out of breath, the tremolo guitar rings out and fades] Music to the bone Music to the bone [End]
