Catch me in kitchen with a veggie fajita
A dollar bill is a bookmark
Bhagavad Gita
I'm probably your number one Facebook creeper
A nerd rapper who knows the words to "Hit Me on my Beeper"
It's a false choice like the mind-body problem
I know I'm weird but I'm good at this like Dennis Rodman
I don't ever want to be wealthy
Wearing squirrel fur so those PETA people will pelt me with
Fair trade local organic onions
I hope I can never afford a servant to sand my bunions
I don't want an invite to Larry Ellis' functions
Be the only black dude at Donald Trump's fancy luncheons
Fuck Forbes for those philosophical quotes
On every webpage announcing your favorite rap as broke
Mainstream acts got a three count on a technicality
Fans won't buy my shit in a Sims adventure type reality
A "like" on Facebook is the pineapple of hospitality
We act like we're better than those who have less
Then cry foul when the rich act arrogant
When I dressed myself this morning I put on my smarty pants
To deal with bloggers who give my mixtape a smarmy glance
This is the wrong genre, I'm categorized as glam rock
These cats will eat me alive and make me drink the hemlock
I'm at my wordiest reading Gorgious
Pondering on life when I'm around forty-ish
Hopefully I'll have a great sweater collection and a pot belly
My kids are all maynars on some pops, your farts are smelly
I'm three-dimensional, my enemies are stick figures
I'm not trying to say I wouldn't sell out for big figures
Cause honestly I wouldn't know
My girl needs tuition money and I want to fund some videos
Truth is, that makes me hate myself
I'm too concerned with all the nonsense they tweet about
I wonder if I see Aristotle in my visions
I'm feeling mighty philosophical
I find my peers' conversations much too topical
or maybe tropical
Cause everybody's talking bout' spring break in the Galapagos
Welcome to my mind, I'll be your sovereign host
I prepared some hors d'oeuvres, may I take your coats?
I wish you well but I wish myself better
I wish on long distance trips I would write love letters
I guess I kind of am
On some third grader shit, colored pencil in my hand
If you like this song, check the box to the left
And if you don't, check no box and hit next
Our daydreams of meditating on rooftops and awkward tube socks
polyglot
with rising stock and garden plots
I started rapping and asked what's the grand prize
Was damned to find it was some name brand french fries
I'm just as awkward around these liberal nannies
Who in their cultured knowledge offer me vegan chicken patties
Welcome to my mind, I'll be your sovereign host
I prepared some hors d'oeuvres, may I take your coats?
I'm getting deeper than Jacques Cousteau
I'm on a sinking U-boat struggling to hold my nose and
Scrambling to waterproof my prose
I'm no Aquaman or lonely submariner
I'm penning rhymes in Times New Romanian
I'm just a rhymer destined to stay subterranean
Here goes hip-hop's Copernican revolution
I remain unthreatened by tourniquets and hooligans
Couldn't crack the code, I'm no mentalist
I'm into ethics but not as a consequentialist
I feel like I'm in tune with the souls of old folks
More concerned with modern morality than tire spokes
The depressive flow, I don't know why they hate us
I quit eating meat, it seemed weird as an
animagus
