Kenny Segal - An Encyclopedia lyrics

[Intro] What is that? What is this? What is this? Huh? This is an encyclopedia containing the Latin names of the ugliest parts of my insides I'm choosing to use it like a compa** in times of peril No one taught me the language of rap song, I was born speaking it My last name means "blacksmith," and yours? Oh yeah, I'm not a scofflaw either Born from the racial tensions between n***a rigs and Macgyvers The difference between quantum leap and sliders That is if you have an eye for The mid-nineties Sci-Fi sitcom Used to listen to Myka 9 rip songs And think "Gee mom, this seems strong, good." Rap song writing, qua black art aspiring Now I only write in green ink like Matrix code Peace to the Wahoo Monastery [Verse 1] My destiny is to write four bars In black licorice Convert that to one stack Then set out to redefine the term "n***a rich" I'm very hungry Done asking for table scrapplings From neighbors who live just above me Trapping seems in the vein of hunting I abstain from only the one thing I'm so sorry, how could I be so clumsy To thrust you inside a language game Without affording the proper trumpeting? Might make a beat from machete metal clang I mastered the yeti ghetto slang Like nicknames of nimble and tip of nipple metal fangs Milo last seen with a poor sport with more a** Got a pa**port to import more for the war stash Short leash, long lash Long Beach with bombast I palm palm trees in my thought path This is a mason jar containing a last laugh (laughter) It isn't at all clear to me why I should be alive Kenny Segal's drums are not quantized And presently that gives me purpose I know it's worthless and worthwhile And how to build a fortress And I've always known And then he opened his mouth so wide all his teeth were showing: Rows, pews, banquet halls of teeth, and he goes "I've got this one song, it sounds like; I've got this one song, it sounds like" [Hook] People of color coloring (ad-libbed several times) (HEY! You can't do that!) People of color coloring (ad-libbed) [Verse 2] Today they shook me down to my core It's n***a k**er galore out there The truth is a golden rectangle I tried to swallow Look at the mouth tears, my n***a I'm really out there All five fifths of my personage What kind of burden could be worse than this? How can I carry all these dead people of color? All these black and brown and yellow bodies Darrien Hunt cosplaying was k**ed for his hobbies And I love Mugen too And that's the thing I love Mugen too They gave us Mavis Beacon and slavish deacons Who predicate upon Who pontificate upon Who conversate upon But never hand-grenade a palm They find refuge muttering "The patriarchy is on auto-pilot" With prayer beads and solemnity We, Urban Outfitters, would like to make a t-shirt Out of your just-born soliloquy [Hook] People of color coloring (ad-libbed several times) (HEY! You can't do that!) People of color coloring (ad-libbed) [Bridge] (x2) And the raw amount of psychic data that I fail to process Staring at Cinnamon Toast Crunch boxes [Hook] People of color coloring (ad-libbed several times) (HEY! You can't do that!) People of color coloring (ad-libbed) [Outro] This is an encyclopedia containing the Latin names Of the ugliest parts of my insides I'm choosing to use it like a compa** in times of peril No one taught me the language of black man, I was born speaking it My last name means "blacksmith," and yours?