Excuse You

I make def tunes, take from MF Doom and Jeff Koons

No one left for the restrooms when I got on stage

I can rock the mic to silence by John Cage

With the arty flavor, I shoot the gift like a party favor

Flip the script and make it do cartwheels

Feel smart, steal hearts and start meals with chocolates

I drop gems like I got holes in my pockets

Why talk, heck, oh fuck

I catch wreck like a tow truck, silly kid

I'm iller than the Iliad and flow more than Shoah

While you're so corny you've gotta SOH CAH TOA

PEMDAS EFX the number one skirmisher

I'm in the house like furniture, pessimist

I'll push the envelope off a precipice

I push the envelope so hard, it says 'excuse you'

Take two and pass, make you spin on your ass

Like a green paint sprinkler on white grass

I'm rapping, son (you're not my dad)

If you think you think outside the box, you're trapped in one

I'm advancing the art form, depantsing a fat storm

Some people don't like thinking, I guess it's too hard for 'em

My dope duds don't touch soap suds

I keep it realer than a rotoscope does

I keep it more Gully than Jonathan Livingston

Brag rhymes have no lag times, acrostics, narratives

Fibbonacci challenge poems, declarative palendromes

Manifestoes, my five fans can attest, yo

Coming soon, Morse code

Kiragami, Krikigami, Kirigami, Origami

Bombard you with retard-uous wordplay

Rhymes come so easy I issue harsher restraints

And if I had any rhythm, maybe you'd finally faint

The way I communicate can make a freakin' eunuch mate

I write first person, light verse in a white hearse

And I'm the Ne plus ultra of B plus culture

My goal is to make you go Holy frijoles

Jesus H. Christ, where H stands for Holy crap

To boldly rap into the outer reaches, this doubter teachers

Defining God as aligning a divining rod with your reclining bod

Cause life is fickle, hellish, anemic, sickle cellish

Dude, you'll get chopped up like pickle relish

And when we perish, we're, what's the term dude, worm food

Worm food, friends' memories fade, you're remembered by what you've made

So I intertwine my mind and my rhymes in a braid

I bunjie jump into my grungy dump

And come up with a trust fundy, dust bunny, spongey clump

I got a very goth towel, a Terry Clark cowel

And when I wear it, I'm a hairy moth owl