DESCRIPTION:
Lyrics:

Verse 1:
Call me the fire-starter/
bring your flow & I'll dry your water/
pyromaniac, time to face the fact/
we bring the real (reel) with the bait attached/
you real as Animaniacs, I write erratic, zany raps/
you write Jan Brady raps/
I'd rather jam to 80's tracks than play the top 2 latest raps/
in the stockroom at Baby Gap!/
that mess a hot stew of baby crap/
I'll Chop Su- you cockamamie catz/
with Won-Ton Soup & chopped up rabies rats/
But I gotchu if you want that authentic verbiage/
organic, no preservatives/
no corn syrup...green; foliage/
come to the artists' market if you're malnourished/
our figurative language spinach builds strong lyrics/
I'm the most different type of rapper you ever seen/
My hunger got me catching fire like Katniss Everdeen/
You wear lip gloss with a glassy sheen/
...I'm a cyborg rap machine/
My bones metallic within/
& I got retractable skin layers/
that can shift, & peel back to reveal automatic ink sprayers/
& make flows I can ride on for days, so call me Pen-Man-Ship...try not to sink, sailors!/
...I walk around with an invisible force field/
a beast, eating triple a horse-meal/
I beat so many beats, when I challenge emcees to a 1-on-1, they try to bring me to court, steal/
rewind the time if that line ain't been caught still/
you killaz ain't at all ill/
even if you could kill "S", you could call it a "S"-kill, but that still can't be called skill/
you couldn't align when it's my turn if you was a car-wheel/
I got your brain rumbling like doing a cartwheel/
see me, I'm real in 3-D, you & your crew is cartoon-ish; Garfield/
But me & my dudes roll on the war field/
Staying true till He open the fourth seal!/

Verse 2:
Bonzai!/
Here comes the bad guy/
the black guy/
with a James Bond mic/
giving demons black eyes/
squash 'em down to a Padi/
flip the "i" from the backside/
yeah their squad lies/
that size/
Y'all act like your brains are bottle-cap size/
I'ma drain where you float your boat and watch it capsize/
You look insane like Constantine staring in a cat's eyes/
confused and strange, like, "Dude where's my car I can't find?!.."
Couldn't gain appeal (a peel) if you tore off/
the skin of a banana or an orange/
Money gains appeal, but "you still need more mon" (mormon); Romney/
you funny dudes [are] playing on a danger-field; Rodney/
Comedy; commonly everybody wanna run around with the chief clothes/
but you're too back & forth, up & down, like cheat codes; undefeatable/
You ain't thoro' ("toro!") but could still end up under feet of bull/
In other words get ran over/
You a grandmother/
With a hangover/
I'm a Range Rover/
driven by a deranged soldier/
with road rage in both lanes/
with propane tanks loaded/
sitting with hands folded/
Please don't take it literal, it's just for illustration/
A little bit of patience & I'll fill you with some illness from my little iller-station/
I'm a serial-killer & my victim's still the same, it's: the will of Satan/
Shhh, don't broadcast/
You feel (fill) regular, I feel (fill) premium, like we both bought gas/
Everything you're leaking when you're speaking be stinking like your throat got gas so bad it could melt hard glass/
Welcome to my Art class/
Call me Prof. Black/
Don't sit far back/
you might get marked "Ab"/
I'll be teaching Creativity, Originality, What Rhyme Patterns Be...& a lot more with all that/
I'm a rhyme machine made from a time machine/
rapper in your time, in another time I'm a king/
I found a light so bright I blinded a diamond ring/
call me out, if you lost your mind...dial & ring/
"Overtime! Overtime!"...you wish, try to win!/
We strong from BC to AD; vitamins/
No overtime, it's "it's over" time...violins/
& sad faces, from lyrical violence!/