--Instrumental produced by Allrounda Productions--
R.A.P.
Rhythm. And. Poetry.
The core element to rap is a rhythmic expression of words with meaning. I like to bring that meaning back to the stage. I don't waste my breath unless it's got a purpose, albeit a simple one.
Lyrics
Self-deprecation in reverse is my style
Like Nick Cannon, when I go out I’m Wild
I’m the synonym of greatness and the antonym of mild
I’m the motherf*** ing prodigy like Mufasa’s child
Simba; I’m exotic like marimba
I’ll perform an amputation and cut off your limb-huh?
Then I’m gonna perform a medical procedure
Instead of scalpels and beakers using mics and speakers?
No one on the corner got swagga like moi?
Voulez vous couchez avec moi? C’est coi?
My middle name is Samuel, like L. Jackson
I’m tired of these motherf*** ing snakes gettin’ in my action
I lost traction, way too much friction
I’ve got an affliction; I’m too sexy
Rejecting me is like fiction. There’s my benediction.
I’m not Christian cause I’m the only motherf*** er who could be God
Answering your prayers by lettin’ you touch my hot bod
I’ve got morals so you can’t quite yet get to touch my hot rod
Lyrics are to epic like your face is to odd
When I die scientists will poke and prod
To try and figure out why my lyrics shoot flame
Like I’m a sharpshooter in a verbal firing squad
Kryptonite? My weakness don’t exist
I appear in the night like will-o-the-wisp
I’ve mastered all forms of seduction; from gettin’ laid to gettin’ kissed.
I got epic swag, throw it in the bag
I don’t drive a jag butcha girl’s tail still wags
Anybody with two X chromosomes
Sees me they always wanna take me home
I’m lyrically unstoppable
Physically improbable
Because the probability of bein’ me is virtually astronomical
I’m cool, mellow, chill, hello
I’m funny like Bill Cosby, puddin’ pops, Jell-O.
You make it rain, I’ll make it snow
Then I’ll build Frosty up out of the dough
I’m freakishly intelligent but don’t apologize
For being ignorant to my IQ; it’s in the sky
My ability to physically pleasure a feminine entity
Is only paralleled by tantalizing chef identity
My opponents make their beats in a easy-bake microwave
I got seven courses, each one makin’ ya salivate
I don’t profess my possessions, I aint’ got many
But I can easily seduce magic; Weasley comma Ginny
Perfect is an understatement, cocky is quite accurate
But knowing you’re the sh** just makes everyone compete; Tag! You’re it
I’m the sh** , and you’re a piece of it, ain’t that the truth
My lyrics shoot like a bullet; John Wilks Booth
My swag is epic, your swag is septic
I rap so smooth, you look epileptic
According to greek mythology Aphrodite came to this land
She took a look upon my face and uttered an audible “Damn”
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