[Ryan Carter]
Aaron turn my mic up!
Living off borrowed time, the clock tic faster
That will be the moment they slap this mad rapper
Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck with racist laughter
A gun fight, and they come to shoot this bomb blaster
Cassette tape rolls, nice to be old
Y2K I was 8 years old, I got goals, Lo and behold
That's to be the realest ever like the greatest story told
Keep your money, gold, and glitter
For that half of my brothas will take me out the picture
The other half will swing with a bathroom fixture on me
A mixture between a Goonie and a cotton-picker
Mixed with fresh tears, played like truth or dare
When I grab the mic the people all scream "Let's get out of here"
That's when it's all about to happen, freeing all the slaves like I'm Lewis Tappan
Am I still a good guy, rapping if nobody ain't hear it?
And can I cleanse my soul without a spirit?
I wrote this song on my quads, radiating from the pen like nuclear fuel rods
Got more hits than a nail that hits boards, I foster rhymes like a childhood state ward
My album so good they put grades on it, Hey You! Listen to this song, it's got A's on it!
It's like the end of my teens, lot of disappointment and steady routines
Then my plans get vetoed, and I get big by big fat mosquitoes
Complex like Gordian, my first and last song that will feature an accordion
[Aaron Lapa]
And you are now rocking with the best
[Ryan Carter]
And when I'm at the mic you don't go next
I blow the speakers out and leave the crowd all perplexed
My cause and effects, don't need subjects
And one day I'll be extinct like an ancient T-Rex