fly:

rap Woody Allen
fuck that
fact: I could be Joseph Stalin sans bad moustache
you can wear a dunce cap
I can rep ushanka
donkey is your moniker
I'm Shrek
I'm a monster (green)
another line for my personal haters hating
my game is impersonal first of all stop your ego-inflating
never by the grace of this mouth
I'm not saying it
never a dime wasted
wealth, I'll lay in it
no fuck it, man, I'll burn it
Joker with a perm kid
this fucking city needs a better class of wordsmith
gotta purple tux like rap Patrice O'neal
scars on my cheeks and I'm deceased
before the fucking sequel
I don't need the critics
they don't listen to me
so I won't listen to them
I'll just spit it
part of the skit is
that my art isn't kidding
cause my art isn't a business
with the green for the getting
green's for the go Green Team, player
if I ever say I've got the gold
don't ever mean karats
I don't wear it
it's awareness of the merit of the Golden Rule:
careless fuckers gonna do what careless fuckers gonna do
flow fucking proper
fostered by the internet
in that I sort lost my father to the television set
can't take the beat?
you're probably not bitching
you think that you're free
I know that you're in prison
I piss on
everything that I can get my dick on
I'll list em
women, children, Christians, and politicians
envision
a kingdom of my dissin would be so fly
fuck that noise
gonna do a rap suicide
and call myself out
like that's all with the proud fucking self hating
irate sedated -
you got it:
I'm talking out loud
but nobody listens
that's why the game is just a bold contra diction

ill:

Whip out my six shooters and pop em off on the off beat, searing red hot slugs mangle ur soft meat like a soft peach im that rude spittin hard swingin coffee sippin wrangler, top of the pop charts polls dropiin star spangled club bangers, nah truth be told im an unknown Canadian kid, clerking at safeway aint seen a dime for the art I did, but ive a burning urge to learn as well as earn so wathch ur ass fool, swing that shit into a twerking frenzy after grad from jazz school
I pocket the time at the drop of a pine needle im off the wall, thicken the plot by tying my dick in a knot ima shivaite lost in the mall, vedic seer invading sears, slurping edo out of a sull, beheaded goat, bloodstained blade in the main aisle of the bay I pop my shall
(ah nah brah is that all?) Nah, impale ya like a sail flail ur ragged corpse like a doll, perverted puppeteer, seer ya skin and leave ya raw for the lickin when the vultures are finished its slim pickins for the chickens Twist off ur tongue and stick a shiv in the cavity phone ya family let ya gargle till they shiver from the gravity hot flows like lava b im mutable earth, with an inscrutable twerk, twerking ur dick into ur shirt, call me old fashioned, call me standard I can stand it demanding quality im giving u all of me, epistrophy intricate ste ripping thru sheets, got ya slipping off ya little feet like rythymic sleet

GREEN TEAM, PLAYER

Pining for authenticity harmonically phonically wana hear a song not a bing bang bong of obnoxious cacophony im poppin off rejoicing heathen grooves my voice leading moves through consonance and dissonance frigid to sizzling owning this moment always advancing dancing thru time, kicking entrancing rhymes, and wheelin lila like she was my bride, on the grandest game show but the audience is missin, that’s why this shit is just a bold contradiction