Lyrics:
18 with a midlife crisis
Obscene lyrics with knife-like precision
I mean. Empirics spoken with firm dirision
My stock portfolio might cause a fucking recession
Frenchman Foucault never asked me the question
Why Nietzche feared that Capital G God was dead
He just Preachy about rich people’s Ferrari red
Theory so incoherent I’m filled with existential dread

Poppa poppa pilly says Emily
you ain’t popping nothing silly
Chatta toppa never a charge
Criminal mastermind Charizard in charge
Subliminal humankind turbo-charged
Impractical theory of love call me Freud
Graphical boxing gloves appalled so I avoid 
The streets
Cuz this life I’m sticking to spreadsheets
With a dear wife nice licking and petite

Stupid postmodernist sped inbred eggheads
Fed some lies that now must be said
But the logic misled and crumbles like cornbread  
French bread dickhead purebred braindead
Believer on your deathbed? God be like “unread”
Dumb ass fuckers getting news from instagram
The irony of the ideology that seeks to deconstruct
Evolving into white girls with brain cells that self-destruct

MC Charizard