[Intro]
[Verse 1]
I'm no hustler I only know about coffee grinds
That said, I guess I'll rest when it's coffin time
My crew gets excited over Jack's frozen pizzas
And two or more beautiful hopeless [posing] señoritas
Surprised, like when Bane broke the Batman's back
Your grandpappy's like "hot damn dude that boy can rap"
In defence of the OGs, you spell Milo M-I-L-O please
Here's to hoping Jay Electronica will hurry
I'll drop this tape and give a quick prayer to Bill Murray
If I am what I become then I guess I always was
Stuck in sixth grade worrying about my peach fuzz
I don't know a lot of rappers who can write bars in Latin
Or recite from memory Kant's deontological maxims
Which is why they can't f** with me
Or much less even keep up with me
[Hook]
Is it possible I'm groping for something that doesn't exist
Or did but has since slipped into the abyss?
[Verse 2]
This boasting is a quirky coping mechanism
To deal with bloggers who clearly have no intent to listen
I had a dream I took a shower in pre-paid gift cards
That reverie couldn't even begin to make my dick hard
Your favourite songwriter equates prowess to athleticism
But why is it man lives a life of total asceticism?
Rap seems like the ideal genre for that
For comfort I need a bag of rice some booms and a bap
Go ahead my mans, you can ask about me
Third best mage dualist on Lake Superior, I say that proudly
I've never been ashamed of the nerdy dude I am
But I've stumbled upon Michael Cera's nerdsploitation plans
So if you've ever been shoved in a trash can, then stand up
If that pretty girl didn't like your band, then stand up
If you're an all-star mathlete, then stand up
If you got a haircut from flock of seagulls then we all peoples
[Hook]