Benzie Box

歌詞

His name's doom They wonder just who is he But don't worry, Believe me he'll get Bizzy. When it comes to poetry he's got plenty. La la la. La la la la la Jump em' in the jump rope, double Dutch Then turn on the mic with a thumb stroke Subtle touch, cuddle, clutch, is this thing on Like the fling with Mrs. King Kong, this spring gone? Sing a song of slaphappy crappiness He came to blow like it was strapped to his nappy chest Surely I jest, the best on a wireless mic not an eye test, Yet I di-gress But why stress? Try an' remember when, maybe bit the tender skin-ned babysitter Gwendolyn. The type to hit and run and go tell a friend Word to El Muerto cucaracha, exoskeleton He know, flow, like inter stellar wind, Tow a rap Jinn, by his toe, into hell again A-hem, One, two, check me too, loose wreck See through, your gooseneck, EQ His name's doom They wonder just who is he But don't worry, Believe me he'll get Bizzy. When it comes to poetry he's got plenty. La la la. La la la la la Eh, if I may interject? Rap these days is like a pain up in the neck, Cornier, and phonier than a play fight, Take two of these and don't call me on a late night The beat won't fail me, with more rhymes, Than times he washed his hands and feet daily And all that kerosene ain't cheap, Villain been deep Since a teenage creep, peep He always was a gentleman, And kept the pen and a pencil in his mental den Right there, next to where the Rolodex was Before it turned up all burnt by his solar plexus He don't know his own strength, when he's on the bone It's like the microphones length, and width, ain't it funky like dingy socks? Feel the full effect off cassette in your Benzie Box. His name's doom They wonder just who is he But don't worry, Believe me he'll get Bizzy. When it comes to poetry he's got plenty. La la la. La la la la la