[Intro]

[Verse 1: MC Escher]
Crop circles form underneath my chin
Like news from extraterrestrial kin, like
"Extra extra read all about it!" Esh is a man I wanna shout it
But I doubt it, what about this, a devout miss, now ship out his fuzzy peaches
A rugged look beyond my reaches
To hide my feminine features
Told by all the teachers
"Touch razor to skin"
A shitty Bic razor again
Botched job, hysterics for them
Barren cheeks inflated with when
Then I wasn't one of the men
Couldn't win so I would pick up my pen
It's not even a quarter to ten
Now this is when
I wanna be the main man
Grow a mane like the king of the pride can
Take pride and abide with a glide and
Beard lines on a caramel brown tan
Are you a man or a mouse?
I like cheese and I was covered with louse
A lousy excuse to keep the scruff
It's Ramadhaan and a bunch other more stuff
She calls me fluff, I grew enough
Facial fuzz to think I was
The dude who could make puberty look so good
But for the trees, I couldn't locate my wood
But I should...
Have seen that it was obscene
Should have kept my little face clean
Yes sir, you know what I mean?
Even now I'm all patch and Adam's apple
Patches of fuzz my face looks like a map, well
I don't know, I don't dress to impress
My reflection says that my hair is a mess
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Should I trim or shave it all?
The chin is a joke and the cheeks are the punchline
Mr. Big would have grown it in no time
[Verse 2: Cursive O' Sera]
By the hairs on my chinny chin chin I stay dipped up and dapper
Rock the latest kicks but it really doesn't matter
Ladies want a man who drive a benzi or a jaguar not a bastard, average passive acting, lacking rapper
That's what they call me
They throw words but it really doesn't taunt me
Stupid face hair always look glossy
Baby butt cheeks is what you wanna call me?
That's my word
Sometimes I don't understand
I'm not less or more than any other man
Chewbacca cheeks don't give you the upper-hand
And it doesn't mean that you come from the motherland
My hair's short, just like my stature
And my chin is smooth, just like my character
I don't care if you try to make fun of it
Girlies stroke my cheeks and they say that they be lovin' it
Honestly there's something that your speech does
When you try to make fun of my peach fuzz
I feel like a tootie fruity loony cootie kid who truly never gets no booty
Surely you understand, you think it's funny
But I'll be laughing last when I be making the money
And you're a bummy beggar on the street
With your hands out looking for something to eat
Like "Please, please sire help us"
That's what you get for tryin' to make fun of my peach fuzz, karma got yo' ass
Yeah... this is an ode for Curs & Esh to Zev Love X