If you don’t like rap then face it, you probably hate this, you’re probably racist We can debate if its tasteless, but I am not a musical rapist Those videos, booty and fake tits, you owe it to yourself, embrace it The free market at its most basic, obsessed with cars like Ric Ocasek
Remember when it used to be conscience, its better know they talk about watches And if that makes you nauseous, I bet you don’t know who the boss Rick Ross is So maybe you should cut your losses, maybe you’d prefer the XX or the Gossip
Am I kidding? If you can’t stand rap change where you’re sitting So full of it, full time bullshitting, filling up a notebook is so fulfilling I’m self created, I took my inner Larry David and exaggerated it Plus I want to be Tony Soprano, But I’m better known for tones on the piano
So the question is why rap? Is it white rap or is it like black? Is it baggy jeans or is it tight slacks? and if I picked a fight would you fight back? The great minds of this lifetime, I believe the next Einstein will write rhymes The great minds of this lifetime, I believe the next Einstein will write rhymes Great minds of this lifetime, I believe the next Einstein will write rhymes
Bongo Monologue
I wasn’t always obnoxious I used to be self-conscious, then came the plot twist Grew a big mouth now I can’t stop it, got no off switch That’s a Jew’s invention, we talk to diffuse the tension Verbal Gonorrhea, blah blah blah now that onamonopia
Its like hearing my dad rap, abstract like porn with a left track Call me claptrap, I composed presidential suites piano keys a half black Put it on paper, diary of a mad man, Don Draper Got the mind of a record breaker and the grind of a pepper shaker
Cringe now, you’ll respect me later, I’m annoying but essential, slow elevator Still less annoying than John Mayer, old like the LP, long player I could play a whole set with one hand solo call me Boba Fett The other hand rolling up a jazz cigarette and no, I haven’t said the N word yet
Its me versus me, music is cheap man that’s my currency Live in the strange lands hoping that the beans won’t change hands Another loss but the phone’s ringin’, I’m like a gay jazz musician I come out swingin’ Can’t stand the sound of my own singin’, so I’m lip syncing
My brains fucked cause my dick is thinking So keep clapping, I’ll keep sweating, a big fat show like a Greek wedding Always Gonz, never gone hyperactive can’t relaxes, think about death and taxes They call me Chilly cause I godspeed these synapsesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
