1st verse
It's the return of the lyrical gunslinger
Sir Prime,the white knight,a real humdinger
Mr.March To A Different Drum,esquire
So hold the pickles and lettuce and please,hold your fire
'Cause I didn't come in a search for trouble
But if you want to bother me,I will burst your bubble
I don't like drama and I hate confrontation
I like to keep my cool and my concentration
I drink in moderation,I quit with the ganja
I wouldn't smoke crack for all the tea in Tijuana
Oops,I meant China,I really take a shine to
Good looking women and some real good vagina
I know I can be crude,I am lewd and shrewd
And I'm difficult to solve like a Rubik's cube
I've got a lot of style and some grit to boot
No doubt,I'm more juicy than a citrus fruit (Chorus)
Chorus
Who am I? If you don't know
I'm the "vanilla thrilla," Vincent Van Flow
But I commonly go by the name Prime-One
And I will stay ill 'till the day that I'm done
Who am I? If you don't know
Let me try it again,this time in slo-mo
Prime-One,yes,indeed,I am
When I'm on the mic,it's like I be the man
2nd verse
Second verse,the same as the first
Sweet like licorice or a Starburst
I didn't have to curse to make my points heard
But f** it,what the hell? In the end,they're all words
And I got a way with them,can I get an "amen"
Can I get a witness to this? (yep) Okay,then
It's time for collections,pa** around the basket
Preferrably cash but I do accept the plastic
'Cause I need to lounge down in Mexico with
A pair of voluptuous bis**ual chicks
(I can't believe he just said that! Is he stark-raving mad?)
Like a mad scientist that is pacing his lab
And I'm full of vim,humor,sarcasm,and wit
Some are not equipped to even fathom my sh**
Biohazardous,'cause I'm most sick when I write
A semblance of Shakespeare if he picked up a mic (Chorus-done 2x)