K.M.D. - Peach Fuzz lyrics

[Intro] [Verse 1: MC Escher] Crop circles form underneath my chin Like news from extraterrestrial kin, like "Extra extra read all about it!" Esh is a man I wanna shout it But I doubt it, what about this, a devout miss, now ship out his fuzzy peaches A rugged look beyond my reaches To hide my feminine features Told by all the teachers "Touch razor to skin" A sh**ty Bic razor again Botched job, hysterics for them Barren cheeks inflated with when Then I wasn't one of the men Couldn't win so I would pick up my pen It's not even a quarter to ten Now this is when I wanna be the main man Grow a mane like the king of the pride can Take pride and abide with a glide and Beard lines on a caramel brown tan Are you a man or a mouse? I like cheese and I was covered with louse A lousy excuse to keep the scruff It's Ramadhaan and a bunch other more stuff She calls me fluff, I grew enough Facial fuzz to think I was The dude who could make puberty look so good But for the trees, I couldn't locate my wood But I should... Have seen that it was obscene Should have kept my little face clean Yes sir, you know what I mean? Even now I'm all patch and Adam's apple Patches of fuzz my face looks like a map, well I don't know, I don't dress to impress My reflection says that my hair is a mess Mirror, mirror on the wall Should I trim or shave it all? The chin is a joke and the cheeks are the punchline Mr. Big would have grown it in no time [Verse 2: Cursive O' Sera] By the hairs on my chinny chin chin I stay dipped up and dapper Rock the latest kicks but it really doesn't matter Ladies want a man who drive a benzi or a jaguar not a ba*tard, average pa**ive acting, lacking rapper That's what they call me They throw words but it really doesn't taunt me Stupid face hair always look glossy Baby bu*t cheeks is what you wanna call me? That's my word Sometimes I don't understand I'm not less or more than any other man Chewbacca cheeks don't give you the upper-hand And it doesn't mean that you come from the motherland My hair's short, just like my stature And my chin is smooth, just like my character I don't care if you try to make fun of it Girlies stroke my cheeks and they say that they be lovin' it Honestly there's something that your speech does When you try to make fun of my peach fuzz I feel like a tootie fruity loony cootie kid who truly never gets no booty Surely you understand, you think it's funny But I'll be laughing last when I be making the money And you're a bummy beggar on the street With your hands out looking for something to eat Like "Please, please sire help us" That's what you get for tryin' to make fun of my peach fuzz, karma got yo' a** Yeah... this is an ode for Curs & Esh to Zev Love X