Lyrics

Street opera
Johnie Pavarotti
Your girl doing my toes
I'm eating manicotti
No windows to my soul--
A Modigliani
So watch 'fore your face gets cracked
Like Halle Berry
In JUNGLE FEVER
My appeal is off the meter
I'm far-sighted
Maybe I need to get some readers
I'll read ya
Book, chapter & verse
Your style is so deceased
It belongs up in a hearse
What's worse
Somebody call the nurse
These hoes flatlinin'
Somehow they have the nerve
Tryna clown me
It's an effin' tragedy
KING LEAR my dear
The verge of insanity
You're cramming me
Like you study for some midterms
One day you will learn
As for now it's my turn
Feel the burn
Like you're doing squats
Or it's '65 in Watts
In a grave you will rot
Mouths will drop
While I'm sailing on a yacht
Gotta California king
You're sleeping on a cot
Next to Bubba
At night he's gonna bug ya
Cut ya out the picture
Ain't nobody gonna miss ya
Remember how lame you were
And then forget ya
Send a toast up
Sing an aria from TOSCA
E Luce van le stelle
Kickin rhymes
Like I'm rap version of Pele (aye)
I shot ya
Tetanus from a doctor
Test this flow you're gambling
Like you're Proctor
Why bother-- Mr. Bean as conductor
Are y'all even on 1,2 I'll mic check ya
Y'all been rated "C" from the health inspector
Dookiest flows down the toilet
I will flush ya, I'll crush ya
Like trash in a compressor
I'm original y'all fall to peer pressure
Like Raheem
For a lil bit of cream
Bishop pulled the trigger
Letting off a lot of steam
I got the juice
You can call me Que
Here's a clue
Find another job to pursue (Ooo)
I'm battle tested, thirteen years vested
Better think twice
I ain't the one to mess with
Do as suggested
Go and transvest it
Lip synch Nick blonde wig& pink dress it
Then I can step with
That garbage that you call spit
Know it's hard to admit
But you've lost like Mitt
Romney
I have the right to matrimony
The Right can't cope
They choke on my salami
From Lenny's Deli
No need to even tell me
I reek of success
Anosmics can smell me
There's hope call Olivia Pope
She'll handle your scandal
As though you were the pope
In the Vatican
Sex allegations
Your Cards' a losing hand
With loose hands on young men--SIN--
Self Inflicted Nonsense
No one wins
Beyond REVELATIONS
Life really begins
You're the 67th book of the Bible
You're lost like Fivel, the truth is never rivaled
Folk got their hands up it's a revival
No I was mistaken they're applauding my arrival
(What?!)