I don’t spit like those other rappers, just let my freak Freddy flow.
All it takes to make it’s 4 strings and a bow.
My violin’s never violent, rarely rocked ponticello,
Strings never burning, never, What’s that smell, yo?
Hell no and heaven yes, I’m gon Biblically do this,
One man’s Jesus is another man’s Judas.
Like the Old Testament I bring it Hebraic,
Lies get circumcised as quick as they say it.
Decimate the dudes who decide to sow violence,
Finger to my lips . . . silence.
Incense and peppermint, I’m a cool breath of freshness.
Windy City stiff breeze, look up this reference.
Deference is due me, like an overdue library book
dime a day adds up, better take a look.
I’m not a bestseller, more like a dusty,
Old wine in new skins, only liquor stores trust me.
Crusty layers of exoskeleton get crunched,
tasty beetles got fried and got munched.
Bunched-up drawers getting up in some butt cracks,
Not to be forward but don’t worry, I got your back.
Lackadaisical musical interlude,
Cue the dude with the ziplocked quaaludes.
Back to the flow, I’m never fronting,
Rock the mic like a sump pump, I’m really sumpthing.
Lumpenproletariat, go tell the bourgeoisie,
Even the one percent’s getting hip to me, G.
They’re skiing at Aspen on six inches of fresh coke
while I’m getting et by the skeeters in Okeefeenoke.
Ain’t no joke but they call me The Riddler,
I’m up on my lines like gay men on Bette Midler.
Fiddler on the make, got 4 on the floor,
Five-finger Mary, 6-6-6 on the door.
Whore of Babylon couldn’t get with this,
It’s a foregone conclusion, I babble on witless.
Sit less, stand more, I’m wired like a telco,
Strung out on Strunk and White, shave with Norelco.
“Omit needless words,” but I need ‘em all.
Prelapsarian even after the fall.
Y’all can’t google this quick as I bust it.
If I say “perspicacious” you’ll just have to trust it.
Rust belt-and-suspenders, I keep myself covered,
Sans-a-Belt leisure suit, I’m getting discovered.
I’m a terra nova and feeling del fuego,
Not Chevy No-va or sin los juevos.
Mi llamo Freddy Flow, got 1,000 languages,
I’ve blown more minds than noses hankerchiefs.
Got a hankering to yank y’all Fred-ward,
Up in the rankings like a rap Robert Redford
a river runs through it, and I swim upstream,
This backwards flow is not what it might seem.
I scheme to sell ice cream to Eskimos,
Got a posse of polar bears floating on ice floes.