Flexible

The WIZZORD live to kick a spell
His wit is held in citadels
The city dwellin' infidel
Whose fitted held a livin' hell

Writ a stele and writ it well
Said, "If ya bit it, hit the rail,
but if ya did it, spit it til'
Your lips is nil a philomel's,"

In his well a quill is celled
To spell his intel villanelle
By villanelle, the zinfandel,
Crimson as a pimpernel

Akin to dim as pipistrelles
Split it, lit it, hit the L
Wittit' if it tip the scale
Zippin' quid in frigate cells

Dig the knell
In a whid the bid is dealt
Killas live and stiffs is spilt
In six of silt, the guilt is felt

Seditionin' Traditionelles
Dismissin' him a jezebel
Disposition isn't swell
Smeltin' shillings, get it sellt'

Ichor is the liquor swillt'
Fillt' a pitcher, let it tilt
Billed the vicar and his guild
Of criminal Episcopals

If infinitesimal
Still quick at kickin' decimals
His arithmetic's impeccable
Inimical with decibels 

Pessimal contemptibles'll
Step equipped with petronels 
Unlettin' their intestinals
When hearin' his ineffables

Obsessional with legibles
Stressed to sexagesimals 
Arrested for possession of 
Excess holistic vegetables

Exceptionally skeptical
Unless it's with his retinals
By which a press assessment 
Was assessed to test acceptable

Questionin' his testicles?
The zest is indigestible
Let 'em guess who is it
​It's the WIZZORD, extra epochal

Mad Mana

The WIZZORD

Jackie:

The state of man in modern day
Is quite a ponderance, I must say
From old Milan on to Kuwait
To Pakistan and U.S.A.

To do n' say in wanton ways
Is oft' the case of coffin fated
Beings of this planet Earth
Who seem to deem their mirth unworth

The first and foremost needed moxie
We've conceded to a proxy
Sloppy in its weak epoxy
Constituted of a chalky

Mixture made to hold a frame
The picture told a golden game
Which boldened shame when overta'en
Off promises all falsely claimed
​
Jazmyne Waters:
​
Are you happy now?
Are you happy now?
Hope you're happy now
Bet you're happy now

Jackie:

I got a homie and I know him well
He told me, Jack, Prozac n' ale
Ain't the mix I wish I needed
Heeded doc's advice, but I still ain't right

Aight, I guess
Catch some rest
Smoke a little bit a' cess
Best I keep my secrets kept
About how shit got me depressed

But what could I do?
Find my joy in a bottle of brew?
True, maybe for an hour or two
But after that, I'll be lackin' loot

Is the cream my pain?
A dream to stack green to where they make the rain?
A goddam shame
Derivin' vibes off material gain

Jazmyne Waters:

Are you happy now?
Hope you're happy now
Are you happy now?
Hope you're happy now

I hope you're happy now
Are you happy now?
Hope you're happy now
You're - you're happy now

Hope you're happy now
Happy, happy
Hope you're happy now

Merchant of Wetness:

They catch me smilin'
Ask me why I feel so good
Gave me sixteen bars so they could understand
At least they should

In the wood, know it's leaves
And you know that's how I wrap it
Spark the night like the torch
And then let's get into this rappin'

Scrappin' paper n' lines
But let's hold off on that fightin'
Spitin' spit to what we writ
Lit that shit, take a hit it

Enlightens, never frighten
Might need God and systems like a missile, what can I say?
Maybe the bay blood, if you missed 'em, blow the whistle

Sizzle, crack pop
I'm hot, but they call me a crack pot
It's a lot, gettin' wiler than a rot

Spot on, comin' through your song
Doin' wrong all along
Stay strong, cuz I'm hittin' blunts n' bongs taller than King Kong

Bangin' like a gong
Ain't speakin Klingon, make your heads ring
Ding dong, ping pong
My rhymes to break your bed springs

Flingin' sheets
Hair, dare, prayer, bitch, be aware
Say my stare is cold
Fucks to give? Not one spared

Jazmyne Waters:

I hope you're happy now
I hope you're happy now
I hope you're happy now
I hope you're happy now, yeah

I hope you're happy now
Happy, happy now
I hope you're happy now
Hope you're happy now

Happy, happy
​Hope you're happy

Feel Happy?

Chiefin' is a hobby
I'ma lobby in its favor
Made a couple K up off it
Got it slangin' to my neighbors

'lotta favors frontin' vapor makin' buds
N' catchin' paper on the later
Better pay or be a beta
The creator

Put some green up on the planet
And we crammin' in the granite
And a man who make a profit off it
Often bein' branded as a... as a...

As a muthafuckin' crook
Feadaroni suckas say the livin' by the book

Yeah? So tell me who the author
I'll pay the fool a visit and get busy with his daughter
A lotta waspin' muthafuckas
Coppin' stock and options

In the biz while cops are tossin' us
In prisons it's preposterous

N' me? I'm lit as phosphorous
Chillin' with my sack
In the back of parties
Hardly vibin' offa' none of them wack

Poor tact act suckas
I'm a high muthafucka'
Keep it up in a jar cuz I'm a sly muthafucka'

Smokin' Green
Though no screen
In my pipe
I'm alright

I'm alright
Up in my pipe
Tokin' no screen
Smokin' green

Hopes and dreams
Tokin' no screen
In my pipe
I'm alright

And I'm alright
And I'm okay
Every day
Anyways

Smokin' Green
Though no screen
In my pipe
I'm alright

I'm alright
Up in my pipe
Tokin' no screen
Smokin' green

Hopes and dreams
Tokin' no screen
In my pipe
I'm alright

And I'm alright
And I'm okay
Every day
Anyways

I'm lit to shit right now
I'm lit to shit at this very moment
At which it's writ that I'm lit

I don't give a shit, man
Jack spat more phat than a cat
Who got a billion that's chillin' in
His bonds by the stack

Throngs in the back
Of tomes and poems
He know 'em but to speak 'em
Could be tragic do mad damage the black magic

Yizzir, he stack cabbage
When he pack the mad grammage
A mack, goddammit, it's Jack
With phat jammage

Good Ganja

Cidric Sing Sing Hendrix:

Jackie's fresh man, he's got a bike that goes eighty miles an hour. This nigga leave his house at 8:00, he's at the Seattle center by 8:04, didn't pedal one goddam wheel. This mufucka' only nigga I know that put fuckin' unleaded in his bike gas tank. I didn't even know bikes had fuckin' gas tanks. Only Jackie, he got a family of refugees in the basket of his bike, man. I said, Jackie what the fuck you doin'? He said, Oh it's all about the money, dawg, it's all about the money, dawg.

Jackie:

I put my key in the ignition
And I'm up out the door
'Bout a quarter to four
Got electricity stored

Up in the battery
Mad at me 'cuz I whip the gravel
Quicker than a judge'll see me
And whip a gavel

Travel at speeds you won't believe
On a forty five degree slope
Dopes in cars are jokes
Waitin' in some traffic as I bob n' weave

I'm hittin' 27th
And you're still on 13th

I don't buy any gas
I don't pay any tax
I could ride while I'm sippin' a flask
Grippin' the mass

Pedal chain
Steady mettlin' mechanical game
Black frame, in the zone, mang
And I got my own lane

Yeah baby 
Got a basket in the back of it
Practiced as an activist
A no gas strategist

Practically passionate
Cul-de-sac could be half as big
As Jack'll have to have to nav 180
stay shellackin' it

On my electrik bike
On my electrik bike
On my electrik bike
Don't you want a ride?

Now when I coast
I'm supposed to keep it chill
And bitches in their automobiles
Are gettin' ill

Wanna spill my deal
Up off the swill they swallow
And they're drivin' like their head
Is fuckin' hollow

You will not see tomorrow
If you swerve into my area again, my friend
I'm gonna bust your fuckin' fender and then
We in the deal

Windshield lookin' funner to crack
Pack a bat in the backpack
To smack up a Cadillac 

And this ain't emphatic rap
It's serious shit
Deleterious dick
Mysteriously disappear like a snitch

Without a hitch, I'm just sayin'
Check the muthafuckin' lane 
'fore you switch
Or I'm fishin' out

Your grits from your guts
With my foot in your butt
And a toe in your colon
You could be swollen as fuck

Holdin' me up
Just because you in a rush, you nuts?
Shuckin' with my fuckin' life
Bitch, I'm on a fuckin' bike

Merchant of Wetness:

On my electrik bike
On my - wait
On my petrol bike
Don't you want a ride?

Now my bike ain't electrik
But I know you want a ride
Fish tailin' through a puddle
Whippin' turns and I start to slide

Make my way through traffic
Hell yeah I split a lane
Mirror smack, I give a fuck
'Cuz ya'll know I'm out my brain

Brakes chirpin'
4,000 in, maybe I need a tune up
They call it a service, I reserve this
And you know I go two up

Rollin' in the rain
Delivery with not delay
And if that shit is dry
I pop a ballerina on my way

'Cuz ya'll know this is how I do it
I do it in the bucket tellin' Bruce
Kid goon shit! Foolish
Is always how I'm feelin'

So when I'm dippin'
Pegs scrapin'
and my tires squealin'

Never knew a phantom could
Put me on the life
I done found myself a whip
Why I can't find myself no wife?

Under the knife I inspect
And dissect this hype
So let's ride
Like double R, hop on yo' 'lectrik bike

Oranj Geusse:

Yeah, and hop on my dick while you at it, ahaha!

Oranj Geusse
I'm comin' straight from the attic
Yo, maybe the basement
Yo, I'm comin' straight from the kitchen

Yo, I'm comin' straight from your -
Your bitch's house
Yo, I got Oranj Geusse in a carton in a glass
Yo, you better not ask

You want some of my citrus?
You better sit yo' ass
Down on the ground, girl
Yo, You better turn yo'self around

You better do the hokey pokey
'Cuz yo, I'm goin' for broke, G
Yo, Oranj Geusse
Oranj Geusse

Electrik Bike

This just in
A quick fist of gin
The christen the existence
Of them petulant hymns

The excellence in
If the excellence was
Man cannot withstand
And that’s because

The buzz
Caught is fadin’
Abatin’ off the laden Earth
When consumption makes mirth

Stuck in ways worse
Than our capable hands
Focusin’ our locus
On the makin’ of grands

Mistakin’ a brand
As a symbol of our status
The WIZZORD is the thimble
To the needle of this madness

The drag is
A lot of rap listeners
Are pissin’ on the genre
While they claim
It’s what they’re livin’ for

Givin’ ‘em a whippin’
Trippin’ 
Dippin’ out the kitchen door

Couldn’t take the heat
Defeatist beatists 
Speakin’ tweetist lore

Lead us to the meek n’ poor
N’ show ‘em what the speakers for
Suckin’ all the fuckin 
Blood of hip hop like
Mosquito sores
Needin’ more of that cash
To keep the fast lane fast
Surpass, crash
And catch road rash

Lash with a passionate tongue
Put a gash in a lung
Of a rapper like a crack stash
Gnashin’ his gums

Spazzin’ n’ dumb
What’s happenin’ son?
I heard it on the radio
They’re sayin’ you’re done

Yeah I’m done with the lyin’
I’m done with buyin’ n’ sellin’
I’m done with productive placement
Replacin’ seeds in your melon
With dumb shit
...
And that’s all that it is
Ninety nine percent of the time
It’s bout the biz

And out the WIZ fizz a crackle n’ pop
Droppin’ the job lot
For top notch thought

They Sellin’ saturated snot
Masqueradin’ in the face of all a ya’ll that bought
Wack CD’s or brought the wrong bandana
Jam without a stammer, yo, it’s Jack, Mad Mana

Packin’ him an acronym
He Jam A Canned Klanner
To back it with an antonym
The rad bad rammer
Of the grammar
Bag of bammer
Man to scam this mama jammer
Had to have a phatter plan
Than that expansion of Havana
Disenamored 
With the glamor
And or propaganda clamor
Panderin’ to the demand
Of a seran Americana
A camera's 
Snappin’ ganders
From the gerrymandered banners
With the cannons
And katanas
In the hands of the commanders
Who philander 
With the answers
Ampersand nicotiana
Tobacco ain’t nirvana
It’s a damned dram a’ cancer
So dammit grab your planner
And redact the yak n’ yammer
You there to stammer
Or to wrack the tax cabana?
Pack a hammer
And practice Mahayana
And brand the man’s veranda
With a bag of burning slander
Candor of Jack
The mack, data crammer
Frak that arcana
Hack the program of
A slack rapper’s stanza
Pack him his decantur
Have him stranded
In a sanded
Harmattan of the Savannah
With this track as memoranda
Love Jack,
Mad Mana

Flexible

Sepulchrayve

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