| May I have a minute of your time
|
| I’ll give ya seconds of this rhyme
|
| And let ya know that it’s safe to come out
|
| So lemme hear ya scream «Olly olly oxen free!»
|
| Now you’re screaming «Yo, Beefy, what ya got for me?»
|
| I got artillery and laser guided missiles at the face
|
| At drama starters who get the alt-f4 and they get erased
|
| And yo I’m happy in this place so when you’re givin' me my space
|
| I hope ya handle it with grace or else you’re out without a trace
|
| So talk about me in your music, on the net, and with your friends
|
| Because this album here transcends what Amazon spam recommends
|
| I get high like Storm, I get deep like the Morlocks
|
| These beats, I know, they make your toes pop
|
| Can I get a «What what»? |
| Probably not
|
| Wrong subgenre? |
| That’s what I thought
|
| But I enjoy to write, and I keep hope alive
|
| So I’m just hoping that you got this on your hard drive
|
| This is a twenty sided rhyme, twenty sided rhyme, word
|
| Catch me on the stage, sweating, flippin' you the bird
|
| In a venue I forget the name of, but please don’t fear |
| You kids can play your fucking games this year
|
| And holla «Olly olly oxen free
|
| Olly olly oxen free
|
| Olly olly oxen free!
|
| Olly olly oxen free
|
| Olly olly oxen free
|
| Olly olly oxen free!» |