Created | Updated Jun 25, 2008
I'm a b-type geek, yo, you can lick my flask, and the grimy cheek you exposed when you done dare ask how long the three seven dee's belated set will last! Sh*t, It's my sacred task to drop elongated tracks...I've not gone wrong Jack I'm the mack bomb with a ping-pong bat and it's my song you hos, yo, what I say goes, you know my thong is replete, goddamn I'm leet homes... a neat geek beat gnome in the compressor knee tweaking gee zone, home sweet home. be-hinds blown, lawns mown, and minds moved I got the spaz stab method for the 8-bit groove. I get magniloquent, eloquent, irrelevant, intelligent, I got a thick skin, ah, and big bad ears like an elephant. I filtered my rhymes, though I know out goes the plosives but hell I still got P and I still got gnosis. It's bloated phatness emoted by my notes that's noted I tote point floated math in juxtaposition to yo ass Fourier transform tricks, the axis flips real time, real fine the sonic conics of my bips, and strips off your nips, lips and sensitive bits.
Oh baby you can lick my flask, lick my fla-a-a-ask
I'm phat enough, kid, to fill an aircraft hanger, I got a sweet rhyme scheme and an enormous whanger so just ignore the slander...or you'll arouse my anger in the stanza bonanza that mutates like manga and bangs the sh*t out of you and your pugnacious grandma. Loquacious I get, it's what I do best see, I got gee aptitude I capped a dude for being rude to me. He was a fabrication of my imagination... I think I should say, but hey that didn't stop me I just blew him away like a depraved motherlicker, bass-line cherry picker, I can rock a night club and make decorative sh*t out of wicker quicker than your fat face can devour a snickers. Basket case I got tactics in place to blow up so fast I win the human race.
Kiss the flask baby you know you want the tea that's inside.
Oh baby you can lick my flask, lick my fla-a-a-ask
I'm phat enough, kid, to fill an aircraft hanger, I got a sweet rhyme scheme and an enormous whanger so just ignore the slander...or you'll arouse my anger in the stanza bonanza that mutates like manga and bangs the sh*t out of you and your pugnacious grandma. Loquacious I get, it's what I do best see, I got gee aptitude I capped a dude for being rude to me. He was a fabrication of my imagination... I think I should say, but hey that didn't stop me I just blew him away like a depraved motherlicker, bass-line cherry picker, I can rock a night club and make decorative sh*t out of wicker quicker than your fat face can devour a snickers. Basket case I got tactics in place to blow up so fast I win the human race.
Kiss the flask baby you know you want the tea that's inside.
