March one one, nah son run, this bipolar disorder has come
Into your stereo here we go uh
What do I call it? What do we call it?
What does it matter as long as it’s art and we gave it our heart
And created with all and became what we wanted
While we say what’s gone is upon us
What in the hell are you hearing God dammit?
So many voices that I’m schizophrenic
What are you saying? I’m starting to panic, aaaahhh
Now, what if I told you that I was the best?
That I was a modified KRS?
This what you get when you mix Mr. West
With the west side of some Onyx I guess
Why does my cop wanna ponder my death?
‘cause I’m alive and my rhyming is death
To any guy that’a try to get rep
That’a drop to the bottom a ominous death
OK, I’ll just be calm and collect
I’m under water now gotta get breath
I’m (*gurgling sound*) bubblin’ all on the web
Stop laughing Sebastian ya son of a b*tch
Yo a** [?] blacks do not wanna swim
Yo class for a crab or a lobster my n*g
I would expect Sponge Bob to be slick
But he’s rockin’ a knot and then bobbin’ his head
Bobbin’ his head b-bobbin’ his head
To Ba-Babara Anne or Bob in his head
Probably said got BoB in his head
Ya know? B.o.B, the boy with the head