You enjoy myself in so many wonderful ways
so washa uffize drive me to firenze
cause my mind’s got a mind of it’s own,
it’s singing it’s own tune,
my brain jumped on the trampoline,
now my thoughts are bouncing around the room,
you ought to try it,
take a hit, just drop the buzzard in the sand,
that’s slang for dropping something else
that takes you to the magic land,
buzzing with the mystery,
was it you or was it me?
Are we the victim or the crime?
Actually you’re about to find out
it’s just an inter-dimensional house party
going on since the dawn of time,
so away we go,
let the seventh trumpet blow,
no, you haven’t seen nothing yet,
yeah, a change is coming,
Son of Sam cooking,
shake the world till its shook,
my raps are the first chapter of The New Book
I took a page from the Testimony Of Solomon
and one from The Book Of The Dead,
a limerick by Shel Silverstein that I once read,
a few influences, Seuss MD,
you see the Royal Crest of the Nevidi
on the front of The New Book,
it’s shines like the street lamp
outside the streetcar that shook
when your Stella blew me in it,
no need to be gloomy my friends
cause it all rolls into one in the end
I wear the antlers of the Pantheon
for it is I who is the champion of pornish prose,
I win by much more than a nose,
I win by my zillion mile long dong
which your girl loves to blow,
and that bad bitch is itching to give it a go
and when I’m done she wants to gimme some mo’
cause when I bust a rhyme
all the fine dimes wanna bring the King pleasure and tribute,
with her tongue, she gets all aqualung on my skin flute,
she blew like Aqua Velva
then I killed that kitty cat like I’m doing to this track,
now let me delve into another verse of sweltering heat,
kelvin so high, it can’t even be read,
I repeat, warning, warning,
don’t get singed cause I got the urge
to purge the worst of it out,
I’m on a binge and flow sick like gout,
your girl’s got my dick in her throat
like it’s a finger and she’s bulimic,
yeah, I flow unreal,
it’s hard to believe until you see it
I took a page from the Testimony Of Solomon
and one from The Book Of The Dead,
a limerick by Shel Silverstein that I once read,
a few influences, Seuss MD,
you see the Royal Crest of the Nevidi
on the front of The New Book,
it’s shines like the street lamp
outside the streetcar that shook
when your Stella blew me in it,
no need to be gloomy my friends
cause it all rolls into one in the end
*
