Lyrics:In a Cold Ass Fashion [Version (a)]:
Fly like the eagle, fly like the eagle, fly
Squeegee... ah we got it
When we get down to the shrink-wrap on my grave
You know the nitty-gritty never looked so safe
You get whipflash under the bridge
Like a cold ass lover with a buckskin
Get the squeegee and it's easy to be me
Clean my boots and I'm still feeling homeless
Your brother is deader than a phone machine
With a bucket of green piss
And I'm trying not to look at Satan making love to a dishrag
So load up the gimmick wagon, get out of town
Do me a favor, don't stick around
'Cause my kneecaps are turning slightly brown... let's be doin' it right
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion... and the people don't breathe
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion... steppin' in the beefsteak
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion... and the mayonnaise comes
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion... black Twinkie
Gettin' all caught up in a taste test
And it all basically tastes like crap
I can shake my own hand, give myself a grin
I can pick my own nose and put it back in
I can squeeze the breeze, drink a bottle of lice
Smoke a pack of whiskey with Jesus Christ
I got options, I got cop shows
I get nauseous and the sweat is day-glo
Went to sleep, woke up in a coffin
Took out my eyeballs and put 'em in a condom
Your daddy's got laxatives on his brain
Gettin' savvy on the back of a train
Mojo weedwhacker cuttin' space
Hot dogs rottin' in the bottom of the suitcase
And your mouth, it smells like hair gel
I love you, but you don't know how to spell
Where can you duck when they shoot you full of pigeonholes?
And there ain't nothin' like the real artificial O.G.
Original Gluesniffer!
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion... and the people can't breathe
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion... and she buttered my sandwich
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion... smeared with sauce
Comin' down in a cold ass fashion... didn't we eat a donut?
Oh wait, talkin' about a cold ass fashion
Talkin' about a cold ass fashion
Talkin' about a cold ass fashion
Talkin' about a cold ass fashion
Talkin' about a cold ass fashion
Talkin' about a cold ass fashion...
Cold ass fashion... cold ass fashion... squeegee
It's like 40 pounds of avocado sauce smeared across your boss
Know what I'm saying?
You don't know when it's comin'
Know what I'm saying?
It's like 45 horses running through the graveyard with yellow panties
That *&%! is cold!
Fashion
The Song:"In A Cold Ass Fashion" began life as an early banjo song called "
Fly Like Da Eagle." With Karl Stephenson's recording help, they turn it into a funky, weird rap, with Stephenson's trademark layers of vocals and effects and sounds. This one rides an almost silly bass and drums rhythm, and doesn't have all the guitars/organs of other Beck/Stephenson recordings like "
Loser" or "
Beercan." (Of course, it has those banjo breaks!)
Lyrically, Beck is just cruising here. It's chock full of fun stuff, and uses lots of Beck's favorite words. It flows though, and really sounds and read really well. The interesting thing about the first verse is that it doesn't rhyme in a normal pattern. Some words do, but they're spaced out irregularly (like "bean," "clean," and "machine"). Beck has a natural skill for handling melody, however, so it's no big deal. He also infuses this first verse with some blues in the form of graves, squeegees ("feeling homeless") and Satan. This leads up to the payoff: "Do me a favor / Don't stick around." That is cold.
After a banjo solo presumably from "
Fly Like Da Eagle," Beck's second verse is as weird as can be. Rap is usually filled with boasting, which Beck would again explore and tweak in another way, later on
Midnite Vultures. Here though his boasting is completely whacked. He can pick his nose and put it back in. His sweat is day-glo. He sums himself up as the "real artificial." This is easily one of Beck's more insane songs. Classic.