[Verse 1] Shouldering our tribe like a myth You rinse me of my foolish Woman king with crimson skin And vision through oblivion Your arrival's a gift So honey I Will with the Smith Rinse off your crown Call out the hounds If the bone don’t fit it’s minced meat I guess [Chorus] Girl you're the world as we know it (tilt, tilt) Act up on 'em...Learn More