Check it out
I'm in the house like carpet
And if there's too many heads in my blunt
I won't spark it
I'll put it in my pocket
And save it like rocket fuel
'Til everybody's gone and it's cool
Then I spark it up with my brother
His momma named him Moe
But I call him "Moe-lover"
And he's more than a cover
He's a quilt
We're putting shit together like that house that Jon built
On the hill
'Cause this shit's gonna feel like Velvet Turtle
My style fits tighter than a girdle
If ya hate it, than you can just leave it
Like beaver
But in a day or two, I'll make you a true believer in me
'Cause like the alphabet, you'll see
That 'ism kicks a rhyme, not your everyday soliloquy
Like Chef Boyardee
My rhyme is truly cookin'
Peace to Matty Rich 'cause he's Straight Out of Brooklyn, New York
I don't eat pork or swine when I dine
I drink a cup of Kool-Aid
Not a big glass of wine
Or a Henn, Hein
If you have time
I'll drop rhyme again