[Intro]
S'matterwitchu?
S'matter

[Verse 1]
Gather ‘round people
From my distant world
Across Etowah County I reach
Into your zone
Excuse me for cuttin’ in line
I am awful sorry for intruding on your space
But I feel I am rather blessed in this issue
Which you happen to be involved with
Love is only relevant if you understand the target
Any questions?

[Hook]
I’m on my own, I’m a single man
Looking for a heart that I can understand
I’m looking for my love

[Verse 2]
Well, love is a prism
Two lights thrown, and um
Receivin’ it’s hard to comprehend the human rhythms
Ya know?
Well I guess it’s kinda like our satellites
One floats around until the signal reaches a receiver
One floats around until the love reaches a believer
Get it?
[Hook]
I never really found out how hard it might be
Everybody before me couldn’t answer me
So I’m still looking for my love

[Break]
It’s kinda like drawing sticks
But if you gamble with this, don’t gamble counterfeit, come real

[Hook-Continued]
I’m on my own, I’m a single man
Looking for a heart that I can understand
I’m looking for my love
I’m looking for my love
Looking for my love

[Verse 3]
Catfish Billy, and I hail from the bottom
I treat music like fat people treat shoes when they’re joggin’
Make souls bounce off the concrete
Give people a new reason to believe in these poetic zombies
I don’t support the dead unless they’re grateful
“Soul food” is a metaphor, Yelar says, “Get you a plate full”
A lot of rappers are servin’ birds
They’re trippin’
I give you a CD, you eat free
That’s a real whole chicken
Don’t be so God damn easily impressed
In ’93 you had to rap, what the fuck ever happened to that?
They pick up the game, and can’t drop one the net
KP said it was a pickup game, just be properly dressed (Ha)
It’s like they heard the joke and took him serious though
And a bunch of people pulled up hungry with a blinged out cereal bowl
But ya can’t get Corn Flakes if your music is born fake
So, Cheerio chap, here’s some Lucky Charms, good luck
Fuck
Now that there was unnecessary
But when you’ve got words like these, then a word like “fuck” it just get’s buried
Unlike them who meet fuck and go get married
Have a bunch of fucking babies, before the fucking wedding
The MC to be didn’t go to dress rehearsal
Now you back in a pickup game, Fucc Boi, in a fucking commercial
Now hold the catfish again
I swam 8 miles on the bottom of Lake Michigan
To reel me into the mainstream made ‘em nervous
So I rolled to the motherfucking kick drums under the surface
You’re sobbin’ under water ya’ll
And I leak so much ink I leave Mead books waterlogged
I know some want my art to pause
‘Cause I play with rap music like driftwood in an otter’s paw
Now that’s some country shit to say bro
Not as country as working construction and doing a show in the same clothes
Yellow, they know, they know
I’m on top of this kindergarten shit building fine art outta Play-Doh
Tell me have you even in your long-legged life seen an alien catfish?
Have you even been slapped by a one eyed one horned purple people eater?
Well back the water like a beaver
Then let it go like Noah
Better learn to swim without floaties
Better learn to live without quotas
Got a carry-on bag from the outer limits
Travelin’ a billion miles a minute
Light speed on the mic
I become a livin’ alien in the Alabama sun, sun...sun-shine
[Outro]
Come see me again
Or… shall I come, see you
I’ll come visit
With my buddy, Scraggly
Y'know, any ol' time
Catfish Billy
Lookin' for my love
Can’t seem to find it
My love for…
Wack shit that is
Can’t find no love for it
Can’t find no love for it
And I’m back at it again!