Ask why I'm sat for six nights of the week
And pick fights from the first sec I step from the sheets
It's cause I'm still waiting for a cheque off the beats
And the tax man to check these receipts
And still I stay pumping g's in this shit
With no fee, pure sleaze is the reason I sit
And hope the mind games will ease in a bit
And the rats and the weasels might split.
Cause I can't tell if it's an easel or spit
Easel or spit
Have they got me on an easel or spit?
Easel or spit
Should I leave, Will I sit?
Is it an easel or spit
Ahh, they want to keep me on my knees 'til I quit
Is it an easel or spit?
The little feet stay running in repeat
Whether sun's in or we're done in with the sleet
I keep coming with the beats
But the swine keep coming with the meat
And in time there'll be nothing left to eat
But this is not a sob song
I guess the soirée's gone on long
The dog days are doggone
And now the space is looking oblong
So if you must, just please make it quick
Turn the spit and throw a hog on
Easel or spit
They want to keep me on my knees 'til I quit
Is it an easel or spit?