Here we are on a planet, which is about five thousand million years old
The sun around which it goes is not much older
It is part of a galaxy which is, uh, perhaps, uh
Ten or 12 thousand million years old
Which is one of perhaps hundreds of thousands of millions of other galaxies
♪
Rolled the dice, fucked around, lost ya life
Double or Nothing?
It's only right
It's only right
It's only right
Rolled the dice, fucked around, lost ya life
Double or Nothing?
It's only right
It's only right
It's only right
Campaign cold as Korea, the cold keep us on point
Blasphemy how he cracked a Cohiba for a makeshift joint
Asked no questions, she told no lies
After work came by, gold flecks on the dies
Lucid dream, gone when I opened my eyes
All substance controlled, you sell and you buy
Gutted inside like a brownstone in Bed-Stuy
Relaxed while Rome burned, head full of lye
Both eyes dry
Lead-lined bunker, limited air supply
Both hands high
Explaining how I came unstuck in time
So ain't none of that mine
Eight lives down 'fore he thought 'bout number nine
'Fore he thought 'bout number nine
'Fore he thought 'bout number nine
Rolled the dice, fucked around, lost ya life
Double or Nothing?
It's only right (it's only right)
It's only right (it's only right)
It's only right (it's only right)
Rolled the dice, fucked around, lost ya life
Double or Nothing?
It's only right (it's only right)
It's only right (it's only right)
It's only right (it's only right)
Startin' with the man in the mirror
Morris Day not Mike Jack's Thriller
Nerve tonic, tippled in sarsaparilla
'Fore he hit the piped crack, said
"Kids, this stuff'll kill ya"
Laid hands like faith healer over light-skinned Sheila
The local skeeza, but shit, I ain't nobody either
Sweet talkin' son of a preacher
Weehawken, shot over sneakers
Died for nothin', but I seen 'em go cheaper
Nowadays full buffet for sin-eaters
Woke and wrote Kubla Khan
Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Grow The Bomb
Even though 400 years had 'im reluctant to farm
Unbearable Lightness at the end of your arm
Weight in the palm, calm
Mista Lawnge verses
Mr. Mom with the iron
But the work was worthless
Rolled the dice, fucked around, lost ya life
Double or Nothing?
It's only right (it's only right)
It's only right (it's only right)
It's only right (it's only right)
Rolled the dice, fucked around, lost ya life
Double or Nothing?
It's only right (it's only right)
It's only right (it's only right)
It's only right (it's only right)
She asked my name, I said, "Blah, blah, blah"
She asked if that's game, I said, "Not really, nah"
Layaway Carhartt buggin' over Battle for Asgard
Yo Mars, you rocked that beat like an ascot
Good lord
He grinned through wired jaw
After the arraignment as arranged, came home
Locked the door
Unscrewed the drug jar
Apothecary like days of yore
The prophets vary, but fiends seekin' that raw
Freebase religion, stovetop superstition
Iran with the fission and hunkered down
For that war of attrition, war of attrition
War of attrition, war of attrition, war of attrition
♪
In our tenure on this planet, we've accumulated dangerous evolutionary baggage
Propensities for aggression and ritual
Submission to leaders, hostility to outsiders
All of which puts our survival in some doubt