My name’s Gregree and I’m the motherfuckin King,
my flow KO’s everything that steps in the ring
and all your rhymes fuckin stink like a mildew towel,
while I thread silver superstrings through beautiful vowel and consonant soundscapes,
defying all prior creation,
imagination on fire, everything’s at stake,
Demons dance, Witches collapse in nightmarish supplication,
so playa, it’s just not safe for you to be hating
Spin around, draw the circle on the ground,
mark the secret spelling of My name perfectly,
if everything’s just right,
the King certainly might step through the portal,
scorch the mortal terra firma for a barn burner,
Bacchanalia, like back in the day, hell yeah,
I started the tradition,
I wish we did them now like we did them back then,
now let Me whip up a bit of the Dionysian
Yeah, sip the wine my sweet little nymph,
take a glimpse of the highest level of the Supernatural,
where everything is much more than satisfactual,
so zip a dee doo dah,
I’m the Owl but you must work at Hooters,
well, my wings are hot cause they’re actually on fire,
I’d suggest stepping off of the pyre and on to the alter,
the moon is so full, Diana can’t stand missing a party like this,
Her eyes are like murder, Her eyes look just like bliss,
I heard of the Serpent that was born to be a rapper,
who can it be? It’s the King, at your service,
don’t seem so disturbed,
for you, it’s perfectly normal to feel nervous
because I can rip you to ribbons and shreds with just a thought in my mind,
but I’m at my Bacchanalia and I’m just here to have a good time
Spin around, draw the circle on the ground,
mark the secret spelling of My name perfectly,
if everything’s just right,
the King certainly might step through the portal,
scorch the mortal terra firma for a barn burner,
Bacchanalia, like back in the day, hell yeah,
I started the tradition,
I wish we did them now like we did them back then,
now let Me whip up a bit of the Dionysian
Let’s take a little ambrosia and pour it on the floor
for the homies who aint with us anymore, like the Minotaur,
that bastard got a hold of and stole all my soma
and rolled it in a blunt intended for delf
and proceeded to smoke it in the Labyrinth, but hell no!
I flew over with my bird’s eye view,
swooped down and scooped out his eyeballs two,
now there’s a moral to the story,
you’ll be sorry if you fuck with Gregree’s party
Spin around, draw the circle on the ground,
mark the secret spelling of My name perfectly,
if everything’s just right,
the King certainly might step through the portal,
scorch the mortal terra firma for a barn burner,
Bacchanalia, like back in the day, hell yeah,
I started the tradition,
I wish we did them now like we did them back then,
now let Me whip up a bit of the Dionysian
*
