I feel the urge,
I feel the ache,
I feel my stomach
start to quake

must find my throne
exalted seat
a place where I
can find release

I wonder what
it's all about
as lines and verse
just slides right out

and when it comes
the proper time,
I raise my seat,
observe my rhymes

I can't resist
the urge to look
at what came out
at what I cooked

and when I'm done,
I pull the ****
and send it down
to all you slobs

to make you gag,
to make you think
besides, I'm proud
of how it stinks