The Sump Pump of Hop Hip

Ever'thing, Hop hip

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.

Full can of Fix-a-Flat

Hop hip, New

I’m flat broke but I’m fixing to fix that,
Got me a monkey wrench and a full can of Fix-a-Flat.
Gonna do some damage, got a bad case of mange
I’m ready to share with y’all, feeling deranged.

Froth at the mouth but no frothy Santorum mix
Ix-nay butt play, squeal like a pig, bunch of hicks
tried to convince me the world is flat,
I said no, It’s a cube, dude, on the back of a giant rat.

I saw some sneaking through the alley with Sally,
Chicago mammals they big, I took me a tally.
Counted to 10 but could’ve been more,
Couldn’t get my socks off to count 10 more.

Sippy Cup Throwdown

Hop hip, New

Sippy cup throwdown, Baby MC temper tantrum
Cold lampin’ pampers, busted amps and ranted
Slanted East, slouching beast, Bethlehem P-A bound
Palm the rock like Dr. J, sound mound of rebound.

You can’t get around this rhyme or this reason
You must know that Freddy Flow’s always in season.
Teasin’ the Jheri curls of Michael Jackson wannabees
Easin’ like Sunday morning fornicating killer bees.

Hug it out, homies, manwich makes a meal
Open faced sammich and closed fist seals the deal
Keepin’ it real, got a new set of falsies
Added a Winona Ryder to all of my policies.

Free TSA colonoscopy!

Hop hip, New

SUVs like Panzers in the airport parking lot,
Left my rights in the pre-flight post-op.
Virtual colonoscopy from a TSA agent,
Scanned like a tin can, no getting impatient,
When you get picked by the man with the magic wand,
Kill the jokes, get your humorless game on.

Three different colors

Hop hip, New

Music

System of a down, yo I’m never a downer,
Spin dross into gold, I’m a smart dumbfounderer.
Don’t flounder for syllables, I flay and fillet
Make a surgical strike, write like Edna St Vincent Millay.

Baywatch guest star I did me a cameo,
Pamela Anderson looking good in some camo.
Me and Hasselhoff we sprechen sie Deutschen,
No more rolling in Corollas boy, now I’m Rolls Roycin’.

Boysenberry no longer, got my man sap flowin’,
Plant my seeds in rows but these weeds some need ho-in’.
Put your North Face on, I bring it like Peter North,
Bottle this pop, pink champagne’s getting’ uncorked.

Horked up a hairball the size of Secaucus, Peter
Tork took the fork in the road, it’s gettin’ raucous.
A mawkish interlude: don’t fear the reaper, but
Pretty soon dude we’re worm food all the Golden Gate leapers
will get eaten by sharks, I’m-a start getting snarky
With the next fool who calls me the next Marky Mark,
Me myself and I come in three different colors:
Red, gold, black and green.

Rhinestone jockstrap

Hop hip, New

Rhinestone jockstrap, shooting guard got lit up.
Necessary evil, boll weevil in a tin cup.
Got cottonmouth running too many wind sprints,
Known as Butterfingers for all of the dropped hints.

Junkyard dogs got bawled out, chickens choked,
Lambs to the slaughter, Alfred Alligator okeefeenoked.
Pig in a poke, hope is a thing with feathers,
Cow didn’t get the joke, now hanging on tethers.

Hell bent for pleather, whether you agree or not,
Weathervane stuck south, vanity calls the shots.
Potted meat your maker, Satanic liverwurst,
Salman Rushdie got bum-rushed at Bensonhurst.

Keepin’ it real, got a new set of falsies,
Added a Winona Ryder to all of my policies.

Bed Bath Beyond Belief

Hop hip, New

Live so serious, dead man frivolous.
Saw a gibbous moon and prayed to deliver us
From lunar lunacy and wolfman urges
Bridal shower blood bath binge and purges

Shoppers splurge, Bed bath beyond belief
Shark feeding frenzy, garbage on coral reefs,
Lots of F words and verbs get thrown about
Erogenous power surges blow your lights out

Dour schoolmarms ace take-home tests
Ace in the hole A-plus blessed
With hidden assets like Vlasic pickles
Crunchy and cold like a hot Don Rickles

Or Phyllis Diller’s sweet dill relish
It’s hot like that I never embellish
Stored in a medieval reliquary dish
To get a taste is my fondest wish.

Orthopedic Pterodactyl

Hop hip

Orthopedic pterodactyl, fractal fracture
Truth-impacted toof and a mouthful of lecture
Stay aloof from this conjecture, at your own risk
Stay alone at Red Roof Inn, cook your own Shish-

Ka-bob, Vlad the Impaler
This lyric hits you quicker to kill what ails you.
Wooden stake, silver bullet, words never fail me
This Freddy’s already dead, no grave can jail me.

Drano running through my veins, Rotor-Rooter colon
I super-fly metabolize even when bowlin’.
Pole-vaulting shorties like an Evil Knevil
Shredding cotton panties I’m a devil boll weevil. Feeble

Foes? Down they go—their foibles are legion.
My weeble it don’t wobble when inflicting a teaching.
I boldly go beyond where you started and stopped at.
Got my Klingon bling on, Captain Kirk is my dope cat.

Ain’t got no shame, I’m a white boy rappin
Spit off a hitlist like baby pablum
My witless science got diced and shredded,
Ate shredded wheat took a crap got breaded

Fish filet, lurking in Suburban hideouts
When I asked her before she said she was holding it out
Be all you can be, don’t let the bee sting you
Finger lickin stickin the big chicken bring you

Home—break a few eggs, make an omelette,
I’m letting you know Freddy Flow’s up on it.
Get your Word’sWorth at this Tintern Abbey
My lyrical foreplay makes girls get grabby

My flabby foes get flayed and played out,
Bring my thesaurus to every prize bout
This rhyme’s bout out of gas, but I’m just starting
Dumb and dumber dudes faces are smarting.

Rock the mic literary, allude to the dead dudes
My time in the library was with Kafka not quaaludes
I don’t spit science, I drool liberal arts
CP Snow he had it right Homes, the world’s in 2 parts

I give seminars, classes, even colloquia
History lessons and a sweet Freddy Flow to ya
Class dialectic, defenestration of Prague
95 theses, 4 score on a Lincoln log

Thomas of Occam helps me razor my reason
My raison d’etre is never appeasin’ the masses…
Nor the masters and mucky-mucks
We liberal artists graduate like a lucky duck

Take to the water, or we up and fly
Sound like a PSA, but it ain’t no lie
Gospel truth, can I get an amen?
Or an A-plus grade on this Grade-A spin?