[Curt Hennig aka Mr. Perfect]
"When you talk about leaders or you talk about champion, you talk about a man that has it all. And never before in the World Wrestling Federation has there been a man like Mr. Perfect. Somebody who has it all from top to bottom, muscle symmetry, all the things are in the right places, the blond curly hair the blue eyes, but behind it all, the perfect mind. Ultimate Warrior, you're holding the World Wrestling Federation Champion, but when I walk down the street, people point their finger at me, and they say, "There goes Mr. Perfect, the next World Wrestling Federation Champion. There goes Mr. Perfect, who set the World Wrestling Federation on it's ear." You all better take a look at me, I am what I say I am, and I say I'm absolutely..."
[Verse 1: YC the Cynic]
Goddamn
Tell em who the motherf**in' man
YC overflowin' to the rivers of Sudan
Took a chick to Chick-fil-A while chicks parade to take my hand
Cracked the safe and combination / countin' cake in crowded places
Contemplatin' Plato, Zeno, Al Bloom/
Duck encounters / duck and counter conversations, how rude?
Used to bang on lunch tables every new Pharrell tune
I done hit so many trays I played for Jimmy Calhoun
No payola on my payroll
No radio for pesos
Personalities be asking me to kick it like a sado / masochist
You the master kissing a** with lipstick mango
Bouta take a trip to Africa tell a master kiss my a-hole
Pa**in' spliffs in Turkey
Acid trips in caicos
Pardon my aberration I be attacking different angles
Rapping isn't work / but now that rap's my work I gotta make sure every verse on every jam I get's en fuego / woah
[Hook: Milo]
In the marriage between eagle and snake, the parents are senile, and the offspring are in need of a break
The fire rages, through the night, flame is contagious but the heat feels right (x2)
[Verse 2: Milo]
Quixotic Zoolander, brown skin Bruce Banner
Bought a new day planner
I know my way around an orbital sander
I'm like Loudon Wainwright with plain fright
And then the calm descends
I don't mean to condescend
Sometimes the free thoughts clash
I feel like General Cornwall-blank
Flanked by a legion of well-led heathens in tank tops
As our banks drop from these student loans
It's hard to notice over the chorus of jubilant moans
bu*tressed by a fortress built of horse sh**
Norse gods with coarse armpits pled support of it (Hellfyre!)
I bought three roses with you in mind
Now I walk down the palisade like I'm Moses of Columbine
That's a vigilant silence that can swallow sound
And I rendered unto Caesar his olive-tipped crown
[Hook 2x]