Sing it Shitface

Donavexx, lyrical asshole Taking shitty MC tongues to the frozen flagpole I fart at family functions, landing punches In the face of life I paid a grand and three hundred For my beat machine, my body, I keep it clean By eating vegetables, while you claim indestructible I made 'em feel uncomfortable by talking about my hemorrhoids And now my parakeet's unemployed I enjoyed watching old men Put Pennzoil inside their engines, while eating cookies kept in tin foil I been spoiled, like an underwear that's been soiled By my opponents when I assemble microphone kits Most kids are mere domeless I wonder what their folks did To make 'em think they flow swift with broken focus Folk hymns are sung, while my guitar is strung And then plucked, to make the hip hop purists tense up Sure it's ten bucks to come and see me at a show But when I stage dive into Jell-O, you won't care about the dough But if you still think my shit is wack, you'll get you're money back And then you leave the show, running into two men in funny hats They'll beat the fuck out of you And take your wallet out of your back pocket After that, you'll swell up in the eye sockets Then I'll finish my show and go to The parking lot to meet the two men, who then put your loot in my pocket I try jocking myself but that didn't work After I realized that God was watching with a hidden smirk I shit a turd that stunk the house for three weekends Instead of R&B bitches, I do my hooks with Japanese kids (Chorus: Japanese Kid Singing) So Sing it Shitface Ooh, I love farting in the bathtub, at clubs At home, on the road, in your face unload In your eyeball, fart while walking on the sidewalk After nightfall, to the point you spray Lysol Despite all the things that the people might say I grab my genitals and tell 'em have a nice day The right way, to grab a mic is constantly exhibited By me, and the MC that knows he's unlimited It's imminent, like water splashing on the coast lines Where I go to town meetings And on the bulletin board I post rhymes Most times, don't give a fuck about what you telling me I get excited and crash a third grade spelling bee And just as a girl named Bethany is about to win my spelling "cheese" I interrupt the train of thought by yelling "FREEZE!" And when she sees that I'm nothing but a prankster She tells the teacher But I proceed to go and yank her for her title Of third grade vocabularic champion She starts to cry, I say, "That's what you get for tampering" With the wordsmith, with the verb gift The principal got nervous, when I ran into his office shirtless What's the purpose of terrorizing elementary schools? I don't know, but I penetrate your brain with entry tools Narratives from the battle-tongue My record collection consists of twenty-two copies of "Aqualung" Half-a-lung is all I need to rock a venue I then do, some Herculean shit on the wheels to cold end you Got the versatility of ten dudes Next stop my little shit-faced friend Serves a chorus up from the menu So Sing it scumbag! Yeah!! (chorus: Japanese Kid Singing)