YC The Cynic - Ba'al chiliagon swords lyrics

[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]