Food, Clothes, Medicine chords by Aesop Rock

SimplifiedAm · C · Dm · G

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Verse 1

(Food

clothes medicine)

Verse 2
Am 
Heh, so y'all know it's nearly a hundred and ten degrees
Dm 
Am 
Dm 
Am 
C 
in this f***in' vulgar room domain.
Am 
G 
Am 
Got the motherf***in' face paint on,
C 
lets go.
Am 
(Food clothes medicine)

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Verse 3

(Food clothes medicine)

(F*** me)

Two shoes chewed up, colluded with the

Verse 4
Am 
feuds rogue veterans
C 
Food clothes medicine
Am 
C 
Wielding out the smokestack factory trained to capture
Am 
in the zoo's ghost predators
Food clothes medicine
I think I'd funk a bunk colony
to possibly amuse grown delegates
C 
Food clothes medicine
Am 
C 
Peace, the whippersnapper generation
Am 
greet 'em with a full- blown pistol pull
C 
Am 
Food clothes medicinal variety
For every plastic orange bottle
For tarnished pharmacy labels chafed
C 
in abrasive pockets
Am 
G 
Suit the hell hounds with
Am 
blades and chain links
For the dead walk a little less
clumsy than you think
Hunger pains chump change
Tell it to how his belly get when
booji hopes hellions
C 
Am 
Food clothes medicine
Alumni bum I got the skin of my teeth
between my fingertip and stellar
Lets bet it melts together
Let's get these men some shelter
Three hops on a cot with Quaalude on a pillowcase
left on an ultimately cordial gesture
By the staff it's a bathhouse
for brave soldiers
Where they coordinate the
C 
fornicating whores in maid's clothing
Am 
Sip a hot mug of kick a chump
Dm 
up to the apple box
Am 
Frankie says "relax",
C 
twenty says he snaps
Am 
Safe wager,
Hell ninety percent sensitive jubilee never return to
brag about that fish bigger than you and me

Verse 5
Am 
Walk on glass, cruise closed residence
Bang on doors, food clothes medicine
United we stand 'til all
our parties click
I divide and conquer 'cause frankly
I'd rather sit
These are them rat races,
Machine a man sprocket
of fat laces
Hatchback and flashbacks from a heyday
full of bad lasers
Now major ace route the following orders to all his crews,
clones, generals
Food clothes medicine

Verse 6
Am 
Walk on glass, bang on doors,
C 
Talk all trash, hang on whores,
Am 
C 
Hock all cash,
Am 
bank on wars like
(Food clothes medicine)
C 
Am 
It's yours, it's yours, it's yours,
it's yours
(Food clothes medicine)

Verse 7

(F*** my p**** hard)

Verse 8
Am 
C 
We rotate protocol on a ring finger neighbor
Am 
to peruse gross negligence
Food clothes medicine
C 
Martyrs leak faster if the carver tweaks the dagger
Am 
ninety moves choke citizens
Food clothes medicine
Well yeah pull frickin's apple you've sapped this
commitment's castle cool dope excellent
Food clothes medicine
It's tough to legislate when scum tongue down a

Verse 9
dinner plate of booze coke heroin
Am 
I'll bite the hand that feeds chew
the steak and spit the knuckles back
C 
Stitch 'em up and give 'em dap be
fore his brothers rubberneck
Am 
Iron chef like a wainia christen
kitchen stadium
With chicken and mashed serotonin
driftin' into gravydom
Save me some,
scallywags hold your breath
Their curmudgeon's gun dusty
C 
like the road to death
Am 
Ya I could pinstripe my lizard
kisser no kill switch
Just a guilty gizzard with
Dm 
a recommended pill slip
Am 
I wipe placenta off my face in the
height of the disco era
C 
Groove through liquid bubblegum, fevered death,
Am 
and Christmas sweaters
Groove through saccharin, fast food, study hall,
and cliff notes benders
Now holds a bachelors in training
ninjas to tiptoe better
These are them sham city kidney kicks
to the loose bolts belly- ache
Tailored for clans who stand
Dm 
iffy on food clothes medicate
Am 
Pollywog hog a spot lit with bigger lizards in a land
of hot milk and honey with stingers in it
Zinger
C 
Am 
Jimmy the gist up check a tip cup mothers watch your babies
near the preachers keen on fist f***s
Keep your schnoz clean ears
open choppers zipped up
Food clothes medicine 'cause
hungry naked sick sucks
Collide your worker ants with
autobahn inertia dance
And curb them herped love bugs
C 
by the cursed final curtain clamp
Am 
Another savior with his foot
cold stuck in his mouth
I play that who knows food clothes
f*** it amount

Verse 10
Am 
Walk on glass, bang on doors,
Talk all trash, hang on whores,
Hock all cash,
G 
Am 
bank on wars like
(Food clothes medicine)
It's yours, it's yours, it's yours,
it's yours
(Food clothes medicine)