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Aesias Finale: This song is for everyone who's been stepped over, |
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looked past, ostracized, diminished, forgotten. |
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This song is not for self-promotion, but a wake up call to |
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all you fake-ass DJ's rocking dusty beats. Attention: we have arrived. |
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MC Lars: |
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Bob Dylan, the sixties are still going. What? Alright. Technolo-G's. |
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That's gangsters with computers. |
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Guess who's back with a postmodern rap |
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I pack so much flavor that I make your tongue snap |
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When I'm rappin' on the beat it's crazy and it's ill |
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And when I rock the mic, yo I'm Built to Spill |
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I'm Socratic - but it's Greek to you |
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Like Plato's Cave Allegory, well I'll leave your view askew |
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I get metaphysical like Aristotle |
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And when I storm the stage, I do it full throttle |
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I'm a laptop hustler dealing shareware cracks |
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And if you mess with YT your Mac will get hacked |
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My rhymes are so def that they need a hearing aid |
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Ask Andy Warhol - Pop Art gets you paid |
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Like Thomas Aqunias, just call me your heinous |
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And yo, if you step my crew then you're messing with the finest |
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Like Dante or Chaucer, I've got the sickest flows |
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1, 2, 1, 2 and away we go! |
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K. Flay: |
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Thirty dudes on my jock, I flow smooth like Country Crock |
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No shit Sherlock 'cause I'm top notch |
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Dominate a mic like it's hopscotch |
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Hotter than a bottle full of hot sauce, I am on fuego |
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Take these haters down then I toast them like some Eggos |
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Man... what you know about me? Five foot seven hella dope MC |
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Eat up the game like Jabba the Hutt |
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Got a big fat wang and a big ol' butt, what's up? |
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Yeah I read mad books, talk to the boys and they all get shook |
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'Cause I got cool style, born in the 80's |
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Line full of dudes want to have my babies! |
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Yo, it's going down like "Junior". MC Lars, the Former Fat Boys and Bryce are |
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going to birth some children. |
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It's not even a game. |
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I have so many X chromosomes it's going to blow your mind! |
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YTCracker: |
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emanating from the speakerbox |
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Other mcs they be kicking rocks I got bigger chops |
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I'm been doing this 10 years finally on the map |
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Got a mac in my backpack and I still hack |
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But I keep it on the low cuz I don't want to go to jail |
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Epic fail on a triple beam scale |
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Cuz my lyrics like drugs and i write so well |
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I'm still the dg to watch in 2k9 |
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And I'm blowing they mind drip drop my hip hop |
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Like water torture ask McCain |
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I'm that geek mc with the brains the braun |
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Sliced up like a taun taun just ask Luke |
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No fluke words hot like alphabet soup |
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Where's my troops hit the loop and do it again |
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YT go fluid again go through it and win |
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Former Fat Boys: |
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I have arrived, peep the ride, '97 Nian scraped up side |
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You might go blind avert your eyes |
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It's not what's out but what's inside |
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In my brain I know secrets, believe it |
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If you disable the sequence, I still got my |
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Grievance, my huge EPenis |
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Still self-destruct in your face like semen |
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Nerd core beat I'm about the get even |
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With jealous fellas, who try to beam into the scene with jacked beats |
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MC Chris dreaming, want to be mindless, cults claiming genius |
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Put a little Captain Crunch in your cereal port |
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That will shut your mouth so you can't retort |
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'Cause I'm classic, I'm a fantasy star |
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My McDonalds jams blams through the woofer your car |
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I'm so postmodern I'm MC Lars |
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Chicks love a little K. Dick in bars |
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They like it when you're well versed, fully alive |
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That's why you'll never get here and we've arrived |
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That's why you'll never get here and we've arrived |
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We've arrived... hi. |
