| The world cannot be saved, children
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| Your hero’s bloodshed is sponsored by the sphinx’s coonery under the monster eye
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| Walk like an Egyptian
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| Keep some pep about your step
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| The petty thievery
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| A pet peeve to me
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| Grief over leaving me
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| Queasy, easily, measly, freebie Frisbee
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| Sizzles in cold stream wilderness
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| Epic, relic, medic, antiseptic tank quarantine
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| Celtic elfin magic melted in that kiln
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| Overwhelm your film
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| Hold the realm by the helm
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| Put you in a gimp suit plastic pillow case
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| Pimp loot prostitutes knock boots in duke shoot
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| Luke cute
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| Killing off shallow personalities
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| I rebuke on purpose
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| I set it, plan, and plot
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| Puke on planet Earth
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| If I was a fifth, you’d drink me
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| If I was a spliff, you’d stink me
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| If I was a myth, you’d think me
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| If I was a lift, you’d sink me
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| If I was a gift, you’d jinx me
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| Sphinx riddle as taboo
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| Culture clash bamboo
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| I’m a damn fool
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| The baby in your baby momma’s belly got my sperm shampoo
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| If infant was hip-hop and womb of time recording room for rhyme
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| Leverage your average beverage
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| Severage causes heritage hemorrhage at a measure which the feathers itch
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| Gathers rich overages whether its reverence is togetherness
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| I never miss a chance to tether twist a stance
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| Fake independents take advantage of a zephyr kiss
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| The sound of their soul is tainted with devilness
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| Dying, we did it well
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| We put diving boards on the mouth of forever and ever
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| And MTVs reenact our martyrdom with marginal liberals but we’re the artful pit
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| bulls
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| Get the fuck out of my genre
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| It’s my alma mater
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| Styles from my mama who do these piles of towels from a Ramada
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| Who think Illuminati but drink limonada
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| Persona non grata
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| Think there zoning on strata
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| Got a lot of Erik Estrada but not a lot of Akuma Matata
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| In and out of water like a piranha on a Prada or Dolce and Gabbana piñata
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| Waiting to Mexhale
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| Your girls in a Hyundai Excel
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| One lie away from writing me letters on Microsoft Excel
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| Cause and effect sales
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| Rhymes is ice in effect
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| Hail to the thief
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| Mail order some new teeth
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| Impailed through the Mexperiment
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| Underneath the burial reef
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| Carry a note and not a leaf
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| I’m an a anomaly
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| You’re Amelie and you’ve got to leave
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| The dichotomy of your dye job is not godly
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| But oddly more runway modelly
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| I’m mistaken for the next Kool Keith
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| Because I interbreed indie rap acts and groom them at the pet boutique
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| But I’m stupid
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| I turn down test tube freak bleach blondes
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| Offering sex on a nude beach
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| To read palms for prep school geeks
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| Cause they sing along to each song
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| Why only do I appreciate the therapeutic properties of a sexy whore?
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| Is it because my vacant heart is a messy sore
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| Encased in an unrefined heavy ore?
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| It’s exactly why jet fuel leaks out of my every pore
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| And rhymers can’t even ingest the food I eat anymore
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| They would need six stomachs, a big budget and crisp hundreds
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| To bribe hand-picked judges
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| To share the winnings of the post-rap whiz kid
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| I’m a steaming blue baby
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| Hovering over a bigwigs business grid
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| My ideas go down smoothly
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| When you guzzle an Odwalla
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| My speech is littered with double entendres
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| And sharp sarcasm
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| I’m coupled with top sponsors
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| My tame ideas are on the wall of a chain of Ikeas
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| Your hero’s bloodshed is sponsored by the sphinx’s coonery under the monster eye
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| Your hero’s bloodshed is sponsored by the sphinx’s coonery under the monster eye
|
| The world cannot be saved, children
|
| The world cannot be saved, children
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| The world cannot be saved, children
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| The world cannot be saved |