Lyrics:

On a cold night with a blood moon
His intuition comes to 
A dead stop, his knees rock
Fingers numb his face hot
He stands up, and barely walks 
To a box, and his head drops 
He looks inside
Seeing and now knowing what it holds
Reconciliation grim, it’s now or never bold
He musters up his guts, and gives a touch
Oh fuck hes cold
Staring down at the man he looked up to long ago
Life can be a motherfucker, on paying you whats owed
And death is just that little brat, not doing what it’s told
‘who-gives-a-shit’ moments that you never took to heart
End up being checkpoints in a game you can’t restart
I hope the other side has got the greenest grass for you
Cliches I say to help the pain, so fake and yet so true
No human being has ever died without ruining somebodies life. 
I tried to tell you so many times, Now I'm stuck with all these fucking rhymes
Our time here’s a freak show, and maybe there’s a sequel
And if there is I hope it’s great, like a Dark Knight on Judgment Day 
And if you're there now save me a spot
I'll see you later, but maybe not.
It doesnt matter now, if it's true
Cause I got so much shit to do
All those things I had for you, still stuck inside my head
Waste not, you would have said, I’ll tell the world instead
So Buckle up, I’m drilling, filling everyone with dread
Take all this shit off my hands so I can go to bed
Here me now
You are not who you think you are. You are something so much better. 
You are not who you think you are. Your shit is not together 
Nothing you do ever matters, until you say it does.
No fight of yours will be a win, until you say it must
And all my bullshit won’t convince anyone of this 
It’s just a nudge. A gentle shove. Move with or stand against.
Cause I made my mind up, I will never know anything for sure
And to hear them scream they know it all, gives me pity for the church
Ears plugged with years of sludge, well heres a few Q-tips
From me to you, it’s yours to choose, use them if you wish

See what offends me is you're so sure about your opinions that they’ve transformed to facts within your mind and now another human being comes along that for all intents and purposes is a fucking clone of you and they have the “audacity” to doubt your mythical facts so you just automatically dismiss them because of your all knowing truth. Fuck that. Question everything. Especially yourself. You owe it to the world to admit that you’re just as stupid and dim and wonderful and beautiful as the rest of us. And fuck any tradition that tells you things don't change. That is all they have ever done.. So do us all a favor. Open your mind wide enough to see that a shove can be a nudge. And a grip can be a hug. The only thing that is forever true is your ability to move. So do it. Or move aside so we can get to it. It’s not like you’re not invited.

Perspective is a saving grace depending on the shade
Dont push your afterlife on us just take it to your grave
Question everything you see, especially yourself
Change can reawaken you, tradition can be hell
Give in to an unknown truth, and listen to the youth
God is love, and that’s enough. For me, I hope for you.


Produced by Austin Ruhstorfer at River City Studios Grand Rapids MI

Thoughts and Prayers

Lyrics:

Thank you all for coming here today. You may now shut the fuck up. Our next message, is not an easy one. And it may offend you. And if it does not, well that's great. But if it does. . . even better.
Storytime

Be me, Seventeen. Clumsy, nerdy blemishing.
A couple of important things: My pony tail, Lord of the Rings
But one thing meant the most to me
My faith like an amphetamine
I’d tell you how he set us free
Hacky Sack street witnessing
Highlighting verses in the service
(clink) Shoot communion fluid
Gave my life to God and made sure everybody fucking knew it
My whole High School, Preaching at the Drive Thru
Staring down strangers til I found the right guy who
Did the nod, like, “Yo, What Up?”


‘Holy crap, very much!
Jesus died so you could live
He’s got many gifts to give
Open your heart receive his power
Say, are you free for the next three hours?
I was blind but now I see. 
You could be as cool as me!’






Yeah, hard to deal with
Like a retard catching feelings
Prof, I can’t be fucking stopped
You’re getting saved, like it or not!
Charasmatic bastard, Kirk Cameron The Way of the Master
Drunk on God? Your boy was plastered.
Goofy fuck just playing Pastor
So what happened Hey?
Shit man, it hurts to say.
Your boy fucked up like thirty ways
I curse the day, I went insane
I needed answers, rock bottom
Went to the church, like, ‘yeah they got em’
Showed up ugly bruised and broke
And one by one they told me nope! (nope)

Hook: To all my sinners: I say Cheers!
To the homophobes: May all your children grow up queer.
Yeah, you can pray for me, may it lay thee down to rest.
But I’d watch your mouth, I’m Holy-Shitting on your chest.
So you can praise Rah, or Allah Oo Akbar
Or get on your knees and suck off some douchebag named L. Ron.
You can Hail Satan baby, you should probably thank God
I don’t give a fuck as long as everybodies head nods!

Verse 2:
What the fuck do I be next? 
If you guessed depressed, you’d be right.
On my knees like, please Christ
I need your light back in my life
But he didn’t listen, Omnipresence Being distant
I’m convinced that I’m committing suicide by crucifixion
That shit would have been poetic and pathetic
Like an incel getting sex because of what he said on Reddit
Now I stand in awe, Fuck me dead that truth came raw.
I finally saw, that the church was made of fakes and frauds
Why praise an ancient of days
That preaches love and teaches hate?
Tells me “Bow, or die in flames?”
That’s a cowards power game
So thats a no from me dawg
And I’m sorry Me Maw
But I can’t be quenched with the spiritual Intelligence of fucking Hee Haw

Use scary effect like in the hook here also
And that’s hard to hear
And I wish I cared
But the shark is near
And you fish are scared
I’m chasing truth
All of ya’ll just stop and stare
I swear to God, you’re more lost than Helen Keller on Doubledare

Hook:  To all my sinners, I say cheers
To the homophobes, may all your children grow up queer
Yeah, you can pray for me
May it lay thee down to rest
But I’d watch your mouth cause I’m Holy Shitting on your chest
So you can praise Ra or Allah Oo Akbar
Or get on your knees and suck off some douchebag named L. Ron.
You can Hail Satan baby, You should probably Thank God.
I don’t give a Fuck 

I think it’s time that we tackle the culprits in back of the pulpits
Then sit back and laugh at the bullshit
Yeah you call me real mean
That’s cute because you’re fake nice
Here, take this
Back Slidden Christians Unsolicited Advice
You can leave the church right now and you might get saved twice




Credits:
Original Song: Angel Duster
Artist: Run The Jewels
Producer:Jaime Meline

New Testament

Lyrics:

Check the clock, Time of death
Nervous wreck, notice Josh
He’s nodding, he listens
He’s giving muddy wisdom
Free of charge, on the house
That no one ever visits
Right all up inside your business
This is
Just like that rescue pit that’s clawing at your door
Got your nephew bit when your Mom’s at the store
Where’d he go?
New Years Eve, Railroad tracks
Mister P, Acid rap
Smashing that Mad Hatter
Pitter Patter, Lets get at’er
On the left I see this mic, but on the right I’m seeing white
And green and brown and Natty Lights
That’s that shit that fatty like
Goddamn, why’m I’m here?
Facebook stalking all my peers
This is getting fucking weird(slowmo)
I can’t BELIEVE how you freaks live!
(Mock) I want a wife and house and kids, 
Wait, nevermind, oops my bad!”
Quote, unquote my fucking Dad.
Naw, lets just stuff ourselves
Here’s to nothing, fuck our health *glass break*
Lets get drunk and cuddle fight
Then double down with double sight like 

Hook:(Fill my eyes) All the way up! (With that double vision)
Check his oculars, He’s miserable and popular
(No disguise) You see him! (With that double vision)
Mind racing, he dies trying to Keep em saying (OoO)  But only hearing Boo’s
(When it gets through to me) 
(It’s always new to me) (My double vision gets the best of me)

So if you want to 
Take the best of me, make the recipe
First, be well versed in levity
Then, add a dash of empathy
Now, just start drinking heavily
No, you’re not done, now go do something dumb
*texting noises* Hey Bethany, It’s Josh.
You probably don’t even
Remember me?! From 20-09?!
Fucked you good at 
Out of two, I’d say that’s fine
Look, nevermind, but
One time I was wearing your dress
Then I blacked out, still wearing your dress
And I don’t know how to say this
But I pissed your dress, I’m sorry Beth
. . .Oh my god, now that’s a motherfucking load off!
Anything can happen when you bitches take your clothes off!
Don’t take it personal, Baby
If I go soft, Now you get to tell the whole world, that you know Josh
Look! There he is! Yeah, that fatty, from Grand Ratty
Addied up and liquored down.
Sick as fuck and still a clown
I’m arou-nnd if you wanna talk shit
About people that we know, and you don’t want ‘em hearing it 
Hit
Hook: (Fill my eyes) Me up me up
(With that double vision) 
Dont be mad at me I'll catch ya later Bethany Send
(No Disguise)
You see him
(Double vision)
Minds racing, he dies trying to keep em saying
(Ooh)
Now hes all out of booze
Joe: Josh, wanna do some shots?
Me: Shots? Hell yeah
*puke*
Omg l FEEL SOOO MUCH BETTTEERR!
Ok, I'm gonna need everyone's help here ok?
You two start making out
And you in the corner. Stop. Fucking. Crying.
We got this. All hands on deck
 Ready?
Alright, ALL HANDS ON DECK
GET YOUR SHIT WRECKED
ALL HANDS ON DECK
GET YOUR SHIT WRECKED
Look, I don’t do this often
But this shit may need a caution
Spose, by now you know I’m awesome
That’s awesome
Call me that True blue, Huck Finn
Smoother than your butt skin *slap*
Fat sack of crap that God threw up in
Switchfoot dared me to move
I purposefully misconstrued
Left the church then I came to you
I got something big to prove
Like, How many fucks can a fuckboi have
Before he is a fucking man?
Seven to Eleven depending on where she met him
You can catch him in the parking lot
Sucking on a Meijer Ho
Call him anything you want
He’s fucking undeniable


Producer: Justin Chupp
Sample: Double Vision- Foreigner

Kanye West

Josh C-137 (Sunday Night Funnies comedy set 2018)

Josh C - 137

Lyrics:

Hook: Feeling ready with the feathery hair
Killing, everybody, everywhere
That’s Mister Sanchez 
Who hates the masses 
Postier raised up
Shake them asses

I got weapons for purchase
That you aint even heard of
And I’ve seen the type of shit
That’ll make insurgents get nervous
I’m fighting and sweating, I’m fucking farting and burping
I got a butter passing robot that is searching for purpose
But fuck em,
Sorry sweetie, I just can’t get used to this
You married a Jerry and Beth, I swear he’s the stupidest
Annoying and unemployed
He’s always confusing shit
HIs only two friends
Taddy Mason and Doofus Rick!
Mooorrttttyyyy!
Are you almost done crying?
Cause I really need you help with a bunch of stuff for my science
Enough with the whining, Morty
Just shut up and try it.
Stick these under your butt and then shove them wayyy up inside it.
Listen, I know these missions can be tough little buddy
But, Fuck! Holy Shit! Morty, run you little dummy!
Jesus Christ! I’m too drunk for this shit!
I need a toot of a line, a bump, a pill or a hit!
I’m sniffing all this!
Look what I just ingested,
Lick my balls kid, I’m wriggity wriggity wrecked bitch!
WubbaLubbaDubDub!
I’m so smashed and I’m showing it
Broh, I can’t even cope with this
Where the fuck is Slomobius?
Kalaxian jacked, I’ll chug a forty and rap
Now all my fly ass thug Traflorkians clap
I’m coming down quick I need some more to react, OH
I couldn’t even tell you where my Morty is at, broh

Hook: Feeling ready with the feathery hair
Steady, killing everybody, everywhere
My world is non-stop Psycho, drama, apocalypse.
Need proof? Ask Michael comma Krombopulous

Fifty percent drunk, the other half, apathy
The biggest fucking prick in all the federal galaxies
My family’s mad at me, always yelling dramatically
Bunch of pieces of shit, and I can prove it mathematically
One son-in-law idiot, plus my two grandchildren, Wait
Show you my math? Bitch who the fuck are you kidding?
Ya’ll are lucky I’m tripping
Stuttering, drooling dripping
If you think I gave a shit I hope you know that I didn’t!
Grandpa is a savage, blasting maximum damage
Grabbing the stash, attacking back
Fucking up every planet
Flask sipping, ass kicking
That’s just the first verse
Rocking with Squanchy
We pouring out some for Bird Pers
Yeah, I seen it all, nothing knew to me yet
I made every last assimilated Unity wet
Strictly for the shits and gigs, chuckles and laughs
Yo, kids go run and play
Grandpas, fucking giraffes
I just pounded my fifth beer
Surrounded by big gears
How did I get here?
Morty! Shut the fuck up!
Summer sit the fuck down!
This will all be over in like ninety seven years from now!
You need a reason bitch? Yes I can get you one!
I don’t give a fuck EVER, this I can bet you on!
The smartest, drunkest motherfucker in every echelon
And I live, breath, fuck, bleed all for the szechuan
Biiiii---iiii--iiii---iiitch

Hook: Feeling ready with the feathery hair
Steady, killing everybody, every-where
So let them pants drop and make that shit plop
The Schwifty don’t stop, with Mister Bulldops!


Categoracle r-r-really goes hard on this one brohhh!


Credits: 
Orginal Artists: Fort Minor & Styles of Beyond
Song: Remember the Name

Guest Morty: Eric Orive

Mr. Bulldops

Lyrics:

Wake up no alarm blare got no pants and no plans man don’t stare
But even if you do, today I wouldn’t care
In fact, you’re kinda cute, dawg, get over here
Hah, take a poop next
Make a group text
Send a meme to my team what?
New best
Got zest like my hands on a fat girls thigh
Blessed like the words on a black church sign 
Cause 

Hook: I’m (I’m I’m I’m I’m)
Feeling way too damn good
To be me so I’ll be somebody else
Someone that could never have a doubt about themself
Cause I’m (I’m I’m I’m I’m)
Feeling way too damn good
To be me so lets be somebody else today
Now I’m Wolverine and you’re Jean Grey

In my gray jeans you can’t make me 
Do anything, you got that Lady?!
I scream as I lean out the shooter side
Freaking out the uber guy
One of us is super high
Take a guess and I bet you get it right
Hook a Louie at the light
Two more blocks then a right (Yup)
Jimmy Johns, Gimme Lunch
With the card, double punched
Sit down, drink sip, kettle chip crunch, Now I’m 
 
Hook: I’m I’m I’m
Swallowing this sub whole
Yeah, no time for chewing
I got a day full of play and some doubt to ruin because
I’m (I’m I’m I’m I’m)
Feeling way too damn good
To be me so I’ll be somebody else
Someone that could never have a doubt about themself

Walking out, See a bum, looing rough needing some
Money for the bus, bruh, that’s enough (Yup)
Here’s five bucks, good luck, please just
Make a promise to your boy
You’re getting drunk (Yup)
Here here, no fear with a cold beer
Toast to the bros that most won’t go near
So happy, it’s disgusting
The world is my nut
And I won’t stop busting
So come and play with me
Slay hate with me
Let’s fuck around and be the people we were made to be
For a minute lets forget all the tedium
There’s a creature inside of you and it’s time you were feeding him
(Hey)
You hear him calling? Look alive, it’s your chance
Suck it up, strut your stuff, do a spin, shit your pants
(spoken) Hah, just kidding man. You don’t hafta shit your pants about it. . .to feel happy haha. . . . . omigod he’s doing it . . .wow.
Good for you dude
Could be you too if you lose the fools that bruise
Choose the mood that grooves
Oy Oy
Impossible to be annoyed
Mi case es donde estoy
Feeling easy and breezy 
Like a Sunday morning Summer loving
Knee deep in sheets, I’m kissing
Pissing off someones husband
Gave her dick that’ll last her life
Then I did it twice
Now I got a fat girl fight 
Now I’m 
Hook: I’m I’m I’m
Watching these fat chicks fight

Omg  Ladies please
You know I hate to run
Wait a second baby girl
Tell me where’d you get that bacon from?
I’m I’m I’m I’m 
Feeling way too damn good
To be me so lets be somebody else today
Now I'm Rick Sanchez, where's Morty?



Credits: Licensed to 20dollarbeats.com

Day Off

Lyrics:

Catagoracle: On some 10-ply shit

Hey, I don’t really know quite how to say this
But ever since I met you I’ve been feeling kind of vacant
It’s almost like our love is just a Rent-A-Center payment
Cause even though we got it, there’s no telling if we’ll make it

Hook: Deep breaths and Beat Chest and Decompress
Friends saying: Give it up, she’s a mess
They mean no offense, they’re just cajoling with it
Baby, cause if you’re a mess, I’m rolling in it.
Tell me how to smother something so strong?
Maybe with another fucking love song
Just another love song. . .yeah

Yeah, just another sorry something
Back and forth you got me running
Shackles off and still I’m coming
Definition of a woman
A super human being
Makes you happy as you bleed
Grabs her shit and leaves 
After lapping up your seed
She’s a lost dog with a second home
Feels good to let her in 
But good luck letting go
Tell me how I see your face and hear a song?
Goddammit, it’s true
Another case of beer gone
Yeah, thats me handling you

Hook: Deep Breaths and Beat Chest and Decompress
This is not a plea from me for you to leave him
I just needed you to know, what I”m feeling
You and me together, couple fucking degens
You’re too good at this, it’s almost like you’re cheating
Like you’re cheating, Fucking Aye, Okay
--Okay it’s almost like every night
I’m just stuck in complacency
Got me re-reading texts
Like, “How the fuck aint she dating me?”
Yeah I get it, He’s a safe bet, Cool, you do you
I’ll just be over here waiting baby,
Looking like 7 2
Your number one side guy
Fall-back bitch
But if you pushed in your chips 
I would snap call that shit
Quick
Can you even explain to me 
How you say you’re in love with me
As you run out the door
Before he finds out you’re fucking me?
NO!
I didn’t think so
Get your shit and leave those
Memories we made before we fell into a sinkhole!
Cause Imma need em where I’m going
Don’t you even think of showing up
Jesus Christ, What the fuck
Just Come back to me!
And I’ll let ya hurt me for eternity
I’ll thrash inside your tractor beam
And bask in the catastrophe
Then drift into the nether
Til I get me something better
Be my devil that was heaven sent
Never sold, only Lent


Credits:
Artist: Clams Casino
Album: Instrumental Mixtape 2
Song: Palace

Lent

Lyrics:
Don’t know who I’m yelling at I just wanna sound cool
Like saying I fucked your mother in elementary school
Naw, it probably wasn’t true, but what the fuck could you do?
If you’re calling me a liar, I’m calling you a Jew
That’s a catch 22 2 Dicks Dicks Jew Jew
Remember when everyone used to call each other Jew?
I do, yeah you say it’s anti-semetic
Cause you a stupid motherfucker
Bet you can’t even spell it
I-T look at me while you suck on my excrement
Nut up in your butt just for the fuck and the hell of it
You a usual suspect, I’ll ruin ya just yet
Stephen Baldwin called and said you’re fucking irrelevant

Hook: Who I’m(You) Yelling at?(Deep Voice?)
Got no clue!
Who I’m Yelling at?
Got no clue!
Who I’m yelling at?
Tell me who you’re yelling at?
Bitch, fuck you!

Everything I do is better, Everything I say is clever
Every girl I screw is wetter
Britney, Shelley, Kelly Heather
Never, is when you’ll ever be capable
Man, shut your lips up your face is so rapable
Check your ego bro, thats where your owie be
Take a number please, cause I got me a lot of these
Mediocrily mocking me, Get the fuck off my property
Shooting hoops on my soccer team
Dr. Suess versus Socrates

You’re a blip on a bitch fit
I’ll wipe my ass with your shit list
Bruh, I’m a porn, you a nip slip
Tell me, is that your dick or a big clit?
Because, Honestly I can’t tell
Promise me you dance well
Scared of everything around you, Howie Mandel
Softer than coffee filters, I’m flossing way off the kilter
My frosting is awesome they say my semen taste like vanilla
And it’ll kill ya. . . . 
 I’ll jostle your Sister
Your whole bloodlines mine, call me Joshua Hitler

Hook: Who I’m yelling at?
Got no clue!
Who I’m yelling at?
Got no clue!
Who I’m yelling at?

Break: (spoken) Full transparency my last name isn’t Hitler obviously  It’s 
I’m  sick of these bitches trying to 
Verbally challenge me, yeah keep thinking it’s possible
Last person who did it, spent like a week in the hospital
With their confidence shattered they asked the doc whats the matter
You got your rap jibba jabba from watching Yo Gabba Gabba

Are you mad? Are you stressing it?
Are you shook cause you still watch wrestling?
You can’t even stand next to me
Won’t get half of the best of me
I’m a special needs kid
You don’t wanna keep testing me!
. . .See what you bring to the table
Is a spoon full of fables
I’m serving truth from a ladle
My lyrics stable and fatal
Yours are prenatal in cradles
You can try til ya die
You will never be able
I’m True Blood Bitch
You’re just Anne of Green Gables
I’m True Detective
Your still Anne of Green Gables
I’m Game of Thrones Bitch
You're fucking Anne! Gables!
Because my flow is HBO
And yours is just basic cable!


Credits:
Original Artist: Donald Glover
Album: Camp
Song: Bonfire

Dead Memes

Lyrics:


Me lamo Osh Kosh Big Josh
Spitting that pish posh
Grinning while dicking her raw
Pissing and shitting ya off
No kidding, not even a litte bit
I'd watch that fucking mouth or my dick is going into it
You’ll never be rid of this
Steady heavy belligerence
My lyrical ignorance
Licking everyones clitoris
I’m hype for them titties are you wet for my fat balls?
Skype with a pussy
Rob Bliss that’s a cat call!
Unstoppable Juggercock
Groin first, coin purse
Fuck if I cum or not
Ejaculate overstocked
I’m shooting for thirty blocks
Immaculate burst call my first kid, dirty sock
Man, that shit’s disgusting right?
Tell me about it, it’s the stuff that keeps me up at night
Fuck with me and I will ruin your day
With gratuitous play, call me Louie C.K.
Cause I grab my penis you can watch me jerk it til I'm calloused
Testicles, full of malice
Best go get me Alice
You know, because she’s wondering where it land
Jizzum just hit the fan
I dare ya to shake my hand
Been (been) Sick (sick) Since (since) Birth (birth)
Flick a sticky syphylous dick and then I go to church
No obvi apologies, my philosophy sodomy
Off a bridge if you follow me
Fist pumping, dry humping 
Chicks at the Dollar Tree
Kids who listen to this probably suck at Geometry
Brink! DVD playing gripping ya D D’s
Prick a miniscus, I’m kicking crippling Bees Knees
Fucked (fucked) Up (up) Butt (butt) Stuff (stuff)
I’ll make you sick and love it
Then I’ll break your dick in public 
Goddammit!
You can’t manage my grammar damage
My daggers are staggering slacker faggot
You’re average
You’ll never get the hang of this
You’re just frantically dangling
Like a fucking piece of shit
That my culo is strangling
Stop the movie, so that I can cop the booty naturally
Swapping cooties, now I got my cock into a Natalie
Bras strewn all through my pussy getting factory
Cosby suing me because I’m ripping off his strategy
What (what) The (the) Fuck (fuck) Josh (josh)
It’s a bad joke you idiot chill, Blame Hannibal
Lecter, not Burress cause Imma Dexter you murderers 
My adventures in Ferguson
A menacing denizen, Mister Wilson I’m daring ya
Here’s a taste of your own medicine
I’ll swear I’ll be fair to ya
With a pipe to your brain I’m rearranging things
Crazier days your way, Phineous Gage
Gotcha on the street corner
Sign saying “gimme your change”
Watch your momma cry because you don’t remember her name
Yeah, I’ll hammer your family, yes I’m busting up crack rocks
Suck on my fat cock, you buttfucking mascot
You’re out of place, Myspace
Sleep on the asphalt
I’ll eat your fucking face, I’m not even on bath salts


Credits: 
Original Song: Banana Clipper 
Artist: Run the Jewels

Fake News

Lyrics:

On a cold night with a blood moon 
They hear pray tell come soon
A crazed beast with typhoon 
Saliva on your iTunes
   Heads down in their fake news 
But Still they slowly make room
Pitchforks. Here take two
Hes a bitch dork that hates you
   Now in earshot, they hear Josh
Preceded by a great boom
Dear God it cant be true!
Fear not! For it's only doooooom
  Now like a special needs demi God
A fat, white broke Fetty Wap
Like liquor through your netti pot
He spreads his limbs and belly floooooooooppppsss




Produced by Austin Ruhstorfer at River City Studios Grand Rapids MI

Botched Baptism

cat·e·go·ra·cle
/ˌkadəˈɡôrək(ə)l
adjective
unambiguously explicit and direct.

Mission Statement:

To deliver a sermon of categorical truth as seen from behind the lense of a man constantly questioning everything, including himself. To articulate through rap and prose, gesticulate through rhyme and jokes, illustrate the minds decline from the great divine to the Mighty Woke. I must be heard.