I go to school to get a job and make some wages
I’ve got some messy feelings, I’m a slob on these pages (x2)
I’ve got some messy feelings

You knew I was a rapper because I’m very tall and dark
You probably didn’t expect I grocery shop at Walmart
I’m not far removed from a lineage of Paul Blarts
I can be found counting cash from the quarters off mall carts
I prefer my mac and cheese in the shapes of cartoon characters
My raps are anecdotal, festooned with racial barriers
I’ll meet you at dusk, down by where the wind falls
Can’t trust these rap cats like Rush Limbaugh
How do you vibe with these monotone monologues
And my eight page write-up on an Odwalla sponsored blog
Your groupies show their boobies mine wear Dansko clogs
Don’t buy into the gimmicks of your favorite musician
Leave them pandering and panhandling, begging us to listen
I felt the love below and three stacks betrayed us

It’s the return of true rap once every seven years like cicadas
I bought into the bullshit virtue ethics of popular rap guys
Now I rap from this pulpit with a Gertrude Stein disguise
It’s about time we refuse to pay their Maybach bills
I’m no bandit but I’ve got some face mask skills. (x2)

I’ve been, pissing off balconies and, writing these symphonies
And, reading Euripides and feeling persnickety (x4)
This isn’t Aesop Rock, I’m something like Homer’s boulder
And bison giving these rap guys the colder shoulder
These ignorant rappers are kind of like my step-brothers
Meaning I get to poke fun at all their quirks and flubbers
But you’re not from this clan so speak nill about my fam
And at our shows nod along and obey the archaic commands
Hot damn, let me see them hands, that kind of stuff

I’ve been, pissing off balconies and, writing these symphonies
And, reading Euripides and feeling persnickety (x4)