What I did last week?
Can't remember.
Could I speak on it?
Might I freak 'pon it?
Put your titties to the beat on it
Nice and neat, I might pee on it
See what I see, when I hit the street
And just skeet on it
Shootin cum into a bonnet when we done it
Empty it out onto your stomach
While you sleep on it
Sticky, crusty
What the fuck, b?
I woke up from a dream
About a horse dong, a piss stream, a gravity bong, a city scape, a gravity knife
57 titties got sliced
Barge the gate, I got blood on my face
Fuck everyone you ever loved
I could never be replaced
And I never will be replaced
And if you try, I'ma punch you in the face until I fall out
And then I'll fuck you in the face with me balls out
I could taste yr pussy in another state
Call me word of mouth...

But anywaysies
Airy, fairy
Jerry, Mary
Your ceiling is peeling
Your earring not endearing
Alcohol got the best of y'all
Who give a bathroom stall about these veg-t-balls
Crawl back into your hole
Don't give me a call
Kill yourself
Hammer peen ball
Chop off your dick
hot sauce your balls
Feed your fleas to knees of the bees
You never come correct, just step
And on a side note
I hate every rapper who ever repped or rapped
The pep in your step should take a step back
Ass crack
Hazmat ass hat
You got asthma
You ass bet
You eat ass crap
You smell like ass flaps
You fellas like butt sauce?
Whats up boss
You cup a couple few too many balls
You suck a quintuple few too many dicks
Triple trouble when you Mary's click
Mud slide, butt glide
Cum inside your brother's eye
Suck the yellow pus outside your father's (thigh)
Say the word or why bother
Hitchcock, sit back, jerk off, dick sock
Your face got prick pocks, coffee cake
You drink sweat out of gym socks
You'r often late when you got an appointment
Check out this cool ointment
Everything is on point man

Few Too Many

No fumo marijuana

It's a vacation
It's a gray nation
It's away wastin'
Lambastin' steamed hams
Green sands, ice lands, dice hands
Roll it up
Spread it out into a price fan
Long as your life span
Money drove in a white van
Blended in with the House
Strike out
Your three through free throw
Please don't go
Keep those knees bent this weekend
California snow
Flummoxed stomachs vomit on it
In toxic stages
Tonic rocks of ages
Sage war wager
Major paper for a caper chaser
We get mega-grams
Bullet wounds and exit scabs
Reflexive retina scans
You got chips in your hand
Eat that shit and you'll be damned
Whubas make maneuvers in a numbers scam
That was fam?
Not too glamorous
Scandalous massive
Camera flashes
Dude prepared for the bastards
Up in Houston this shit's backwards
What you gonna do if you a Master?
Never catch me listen to a Pastor
Up in the future that shit is absurb

No fumo marijuana
Twisted in whirlwind 
What the fuck do you know?

We B Muggin Movin'em Around

This song is about "Walnut Potica"
Should I dis him?
He actually raps about Star Wars
And some things that might be misconstrued as
Slightly more interesting
Unlike myself
I'm more interested in
Guys like Pigpen
Dolls like pilgrims
You pretty little Indians
I'm an unsettler
I've tricked them
Need your teepee
To wipe my bunghole, dickhead
I ate baked clams, I hate spiced ham
I might dance, if I can't stand
I'm so drunken, inform a cab
It's more than that
You think it's trendy?
Dumb and dumb
Like spelunking
Your mind melted down a flight of steps
Mine was short of breath
Because I put hydrochloric acid on the treads
You should come over my house too
It's a zoo
I got rhino-leather steps
All the railings are giraffe necks
The bathroom has a maid
The toilet is her chest
After you get upset
You may accidentally beat her to death
We can make her into a mulch
And bury her body in the backyard
It's environmentally conscious
As far as I'm concerned

Not to shit in the water supply
But your daughter is totally high
Hanging by a thread over a cliff
Huxtable sort of a guy
A doctor, proctology style
But on a more serious note?
I'm not here to be dope
I'm unbearably close
Above ground with a subterranean periscope
I see wack rappers in throngs
Great rappers in thongs
Songs would be better
Without rappers in songs
Poets are automatically wrong
I'll make your eyes all blacked
I take bong hits out of wet/dry vac's
Fuck you and your hegemony
That shit is off
I'm the Stephon Marbury of everything
At the party dip my balls in the sauce
In the scheme of ineffectual experimentation
Some of you hoes call it intellectual
And then you cough
I'm as smart as a dart
There's no point to most art
I sound better when I Harpo the marks
Donnie Darko was as sharp as a fart
Thats hot and heavy
Thats not what intentions soothe
I'm a nice guy
That's why I'm sitting here correcting you

Korbel the Dawn

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