The Return

Ha ha.

Guess who it is!

I'm baaaaaack!

 

That's right, kids. Yes, I'm back.

I've returned to murder suckers. But can I rap?

Fact. I'm a class act.

You're an asshat.

You can tap dance.

You can click-clackity-click-clack in a zig zag.

Dig that. You've been bad.

I'm badass. Sinbad.

Yeah, yeah. On a rampage.

You're gettin upstaged till you're offstage.

All day, you're far away from

my way....

So what you tryin accomplish?

You're not straight out of Compton.

So get stomped into some dog shit.

You can talk it.

You can walk it.

You can fry it up.

You can salt it.

If you lost it, then you lost it.

Don't pretend you're not exhausted.

But, if you're authen-tic,

You can soften it or harden.

You can bust till you combust ill.

Arsen-ist....I'll say this.

"Excuse me, You seem

to produce the

little Bruce Lee kinda

quality about you.

Are you a ninja Mr. Duece-ie?"

Well, you see, it's

not much of a doozie

to produce beats

while I'm snoozing.

When I'm half conscious

I beatbox in the booth

while singing "ooh wee" with an uzi.

I'm rambling. But I just wanted to let you know that I'm back

and I won't stand for these scandalous vandalists

on rap pad. So we'll handle it from here.

Good night.