Ah, good morning Toby, "good morning"
Say Toby (Yes)
Sorry to bother you and your folks but who is this boy?
"Uh-oh" (what's going on?)
Well well well
Countless styles to rip on 12,000 miles a trip
Tobe take the wheel and wheels of steel
Some nights just don't feel for real
Printed page took a beating. Not a staged reading
Staved off the ancients, it's young age that's fleeting
Peel off paper man, same cannery's cans
Clamoring fans, cameras in hand like I got mammary glands.
Bless the mic so genuflect
If whole place put hands up, then you wrecked!
Another day, another tore down tabernacle
Bout to go Pop, oh Snap and king sized Krackel
Can't see me like a rock in tall grass
Millennium records are all ass
I sign titties, LPs, arms, and hall passes
You want to trace it as a tattoo? Fine
You are a piece of work, but you are not mine
Face it: I'm the truth
Old ladies waste their whole lives then, "youth is wasted on the youth"
'And I should have your hair.'
'Why? To look like you? All day at the salon just to come out blue'
Like the toilet?. Aren't you annoyed yet?
King me crown for down with vets pound for poids net
Flavor. You can taste it on the tongue
It's old folks' problems that're wasted on the young
Which came first: the chicken or egg??
Man made god, ain't that a kick in the head?
Allahu akbar. Paul, the new rock star.
Even in the early morning, it gives a little light
And as the day goes on, it gets brighter and brighter
I didn't know that
Neither did I!
Teens loom between the stage and the green room
Girlfriend recommendin' askin' him out
For a first date, maybe the asstomouth casting couch
I want to ride her grapes by the drapes
In fresh air and check out the cityscape from fire escapes
Get down in a booth and pretend it's a crowd
Where a futon's soundproofin'
No such thing as a bit part
Except for the chicken that hit the spit guard
Don't get me started. I'm flattered when I'm carded
Predisposed to happiness when retarded and I'm in hot pursuit
I got the boot from a Grammy winner. Not as cute
I take more shorts than a panty raid
Born rhymer can't be made
Emulsion got a green tint
You should see pregnant women screenprint
I don't deal in headshots
Unless they're suppressed photos of dead tots
MCs caught unawares thought I'm shining out with some of theirs
Put your ones in the airs!
Not guns or funds. Put up your pointer fingers
Even joiners, Ringers from the Feds for the phrase-coiner/singer.
I make the headliner go, "I can't go on after that!"
I laugh at rap
Okay's not good, it's half as whack
I'm a hermit crab and that I'll find your open mind's my habitat
So you feel better
Depression f*cks up your appestat
All you in the back
Call on you to react
If you can't find the front let me draw you a map
For all those who order sparkling water:
Your world is darkening; prepare for mass slaughter
I was once a perky dude
At worst was rude
Work in the nude
Will murk for food
Case the joint
Every face on coin's bent backs way past their breaking point
Write rhymes on marriage license
Rock France with laryngitis and no DJ
f*ck what he say
In Montreal they put raunchy Paul on replay
It's M-C-P-A-U-L you thought you knew well
It gets better every record in case you can't tell
I've been effed, bereft, and faced death. Tell me what's left
I'm an eighth grade taped on escape to the sunshine of a golden shower
Took a toke of smoke that blew through Okinawa
Born alone, die alone, adopt, stop ribosome
Work for a j*rk, get ahead, and provide a home
Back off before I tear a track off reels and rhyme skin black off
I'm in a state of grace.
A great many days ago, he says "He's tellin' the truth. He kept a straight face."
Think for yourself
Most people lie and truth-tellers are long
I hand-spun the propeller and took off in this song
It's too long to be honest
I make my top one list like US dominance. I'm gone