[Intro]

[Verse 1: Carlos Ferragamo]
Yo!
Ciao the motherfucking dungeon of rap
How you cum if minus the sperm the dick the college chick with a perm
Who's the number one Bronx MC?
That be me, capital 'C', yup, 'A' to the 'R-LOS'
Pronounce it 'Carlos', Ferragamo the surname
Here bringin' finest hip-hop minus the rope chain
You've prolly never heard of me like I got no name
Train on the tracks, we're fire without the propane
Air Force 1's on the feet, color of cocaine (what?)
DJ bring it back sorta like Rogaine?
Battle me stupid like PS3 with no game
Or computers with no monitors
Check the thermometer, spit longer than four kilometers
Shine bright like the North Star Andromeda, for real
Smack the top of the face, no ice grill
Cuz I came from the hood and I could go back still

[Verse 2: e-dubble]
I got it, I'm on it
No pause, no comma
Straight through, no juice still spit like a Llama
Yeh, new week, new treat like a comic
I ain't talking stand-up but I like 'yo-mamma's'
Promise gets kept; your threats ain't honest
Thirty-three weeks deep, keep dodging them Piranhas
Jaw drops like you just saw Rihanna in pajamas and you got it on tape so rewind it
Play it again, the good shit reigning 'em in
Carlos and e-dub, we playing to win
I'm tryna spread the good seed like I came in the wind
Pollinating 'til the politics can come to an end
Honestly, this new shit is transcendent
Everyone's a critic nowadays
Go ahead and hit send, bitch
The Internet is like a living organism for some haters to create a persona they ain't livin' yet
And probably never will, I'll probably never spill
My cup is a carafe and my balance be that of Jedi skill
You better bet I'm ill
I hate to brag but before I go out, I hope I got an Eddie Vedder will
Lots of assets, no liability
I'm saddened by the passionless people with no abilities
And I ain't talkin' 'bout the people with the Scrillogys
Equivalent to Terry Jones sermonizing in Tripoli
Ack
Bullshittin' while I think about victory
Happy to be stubborn, I'm never uttering 'Pretty please?'
Too many Favre's in the pocket—no tickling
We sweat to pay dues, Ray Lewis take a whiff of these
Dirty uniforms, never keep them shit's white
Go and fuck yourself if you need your shit wiped
Do for self or go ahead and get your shit swiped
Unconvinced I'm equal, inherit shit but a shit life
Talkin' down to me is something that you can't do
I'm seven foot, you're Michalsky in a pant suit
I see your dandruff and you need to shampoo
Bill Clinton your ass free willy 'til I Shamu
Or ShamWow, I took the damn vows
Married to this shit, hip-hop is my spouse
No movie, my mind has no doubt
But I'm livin' in the parable, now you go pout
[Outro: e-dubble]
Yeah! Freestyle Friday #33. Thursday, September 9th. Shout out to Carlos Ferragamo, my homeboy from the Bronx, for killing it on the track! Thanks for killing it, homeboy
Plenty more where that came from; hope everybody enjoyed it
Tonight is, uh, NFL Kickoff night. So, happy motherfucking football season, everybody! Whoever your team is, whoever your team is
Y' know, we're diplomats here. I wish everybody good luck. Go Vikings; go Saints, but I'm pretty sure Reggie Bush is gonna be running over people tonight
I don't know if you've seen that RedZone campaign, but I wanted to get one of those G-Damn autographed footballs, you know?
Shout out to Activate Social, Black Paisley. Please go to Facebook.com/edubhiphop, Twitter.com/edubhiphop
Shout out to GoodMusicAllDay, and all the wonderful blogs
And, uh, get ready for the mixtape, Written Thursday. It's, uh, it's coming up. And it's, uh, it's coming pretty fast. See ya guys!