Wake up, clothes thrown with a smile on my face
Test my looks out in the mirror as I skip the page
Shoes tied, looking nice and I'm out the door
Time to push it to the limits and give my all
Here I come, fame, notice my success
Tell the doubtful to get lost but give them my best
There I go, comfort, I'm going on a trip
And I'm sorry but where I'll be, you can't come with
Like a bushfire raging, and moving uncaged
Imma put them in the dirt and rub the dirt off my stained slate
You can't stop this! Why try to stand to me?
I bag and tag from rich to rag it's all way too easy
I'm laughing in the face of your disgrace because I know
Your back is to a cul-de-sac and you're straining the ropes
To hold the gate and trust the chains, but you know I'm busting through
So why try to slow me down when I know how to move
I'll show you speed beyond belief, make you know the real deal
Not the drugs to which you're numb, but as smooth as a worn wheel
More grip than I spit, like Velcro I'm ripped
Old bandaids on bullet wounds, festering filth
The sight of this regression is dis-gus-ting
Fling that **** away from me, like a discus: sling!
Moving on and growing strong you should be dis-cuss-ing
Instead don't use your head just be braindead stay cussing, ah!
**** ****, ****, **** and chicken wings
Not making any cents, your job is imaginary
Up in your minds eye, making flows and energy
To the same beat, whack **** that really isn't lyrically
Challenging, like using word play to slay with words
Instead you play with trap because you're snared by actual work
So you rap one flow, spit that **** real slow
Work that auto tune, to work more comfortable
Sounding like T-Pane on a bad day, like Machine Gun, more pray than spray
When you face the mass and have the nerve to say your work is "okay"
When you admit the sins of your mistakes
But take to the net and say differently
No indicator but you turn to see
Even the mirror cracks up when you speak!
Achoo! Sniffle, snort, blow my, nose
Take the, mic and, ahem clear my throat
And roll, on down, this slippery, *****
Here I go, the PR has made the close!
Mumble rap, just mumble crap
Clothes and *******, this and that
Money, money, flex and gloat
Man your life is just a show
Sitcom, sit down, slow poke
Honk nose, clown knows, no hope
So he goes, and buys rope, a gold chain, the same though
And hangs himself
Agh! If only they would
Just make something good
No fake gangsters and hoods
Just messages and representatives to give a lesson which
Would teach the world perspective and not create this diss
Of which all of us lyricists have been reaching through the television
And telepathy to maybe bring something intellectually substantial, elephants
In the room to be tranquilised
Put to bed for good so before I say goodnight just listen one last time... A hole has been made
Six foot deep, so mumble rap please lay down in this earthy bed and sleep!
Oh and please!
Don't even make a Peep!
Mumble rap is hardly rap now is it?
