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chapstick - pointless punchlines lyrics
[verse 1:chapstick]
look… when it… comes to hip-hop, you take the wrong angle
no wonder the games all mangled and its not tranquil
i’m getting it off my chest like a chick with her bra tangled
leaving them broken like some badly crossed ankles
squares i run circles around and i’m serving tonight
i’m phat while you’re just out of shape, style is perfect to bite
smarts or hotness is irrelevant to a jerk with a mic
you can have 90 degrees and never really be right
now i’m a nerd, screw lacoste, i like the crocs alligators
last time i found “sin” i was probably staring at calculators
“but that sin was simply a sine i will make quadratic paper
“curving exponentially,” wonder why i have a hater?
they’re “finna function,” i’m in cl-ss trying to solve some
talking about math problems when i tell them that i’m “on one”
n0body wanna be positive, its like an aids clinic
but the rhythm be giving a symptom of popped mollies so i stay spitting
[skit 1: chapstick, cody and zane]
cody: dude that was too fast. n0body is going to understand that
chapstick: well i thought it was cool so how’s that sound?
zane: it actually sucked though. it was disappointing
chapstick: don’t talk to me that way, okay? you know how i get with my feelings
cody: look i’m just saying that n0body our age is going to get this
[verse 2: chapstick]
this… generation sucks and yet we’re proud of all this
since kanye dropped out of college, the crowd won’t stop with…
all this, but since hip-hop ran out of knowledge
i’ve stayed in the bars like criminals or alcoholics
music stands to fall, it can’t be solved and that’s a problem
went from making songs on basketball to how they’re “ballin’,”
but they’re out their noggin if they think they’re actually ballin’
with a “w” i suppose, blind like they got damaged optics
maybe i’m blind too, where eyes should be my head is empty
and the only time my vision seems to work is when i emcee
touching all senses: eyes, ears, mouth
see you stink, tasteless, touch you as you hear it now
now i’m a pacifist but get violent in flows
when i deal you more punches than sylas did joe
eating emcees, a punchlines to lunch line
don’t just murder an “m” and a “c”, its the whole alphabet, what a fun time
a better choice: doing emceeing for good, hey i just k!ll losers, michaels not optimistic
pretty quickly ripping stupid tools, unusually valuable, well excuse you, zealous of all i’m spitting
take the first letter from each word in the last four bars i said
put them in order, thats proof i murder the alphabet
these punches are foreign, they are something important
and now you know i’m off the hook like i just got done with a chorus
[skit 2: chapstick, cody and igor]
cody:i see what you did there. with like… the alphabet and such. that was… that was good
igor: michael!
chapstick: oh my… what?
igor: we’re out of pizza rolls michael! and the tivo stopped working!
chapstick: thats not even my… alright third verse
[verse 3: chapstick]
forget a smart phone, literarys the device on me
-n-lyzing an alliteration and -n-logies
i like similes as much as the checkerboard…
of a nerd when he gets a better score than he ever gets before
gotta meet the number after 3 for sure
and turn a noun into a verb because you never metaphor
bars like that you don’t get, puns are too subtle
go right over your head like speeches in cartoon bubbles
come record with that rhyme scheme, you might suffer, sir
i’ll have you running out like a store with too many customers
look at you with your single and double syllables
thinking you’re cool but i’m eating it up like “really dude?”
listen to that, this is a nine syllable rhyme scheme
wicked and bad, i’m k!llin’ it nightly
stickin’ to fact, try getting behind me
ripping a track? try k!lling it… right see
you couldn’t k!ll it with a weapon drawn
this rap thing? you get it wrong and you are what i’m stepping on
a song of yours is what i’m never on
“i heard suburban, i’m offended dawg.”
they’re like “he on one,” you’re a peon son
check these next 4 bars, i will “p” on em’
puny posers pose as puny pr-cks
producing plenty of pride provokes me to be p-ssed
peers pen pathetic poems, peeved at my pun rhymes
puny percent protected from these pointless punchlines
think they’d have chicks if the wealth did vanish
“yo yo yo,” like talking to themselves in spanish
i hope to be the best in cypher, intelligent writer
while others get punched like paper meant for binders
“yo mato,” i k!ll in any language, i’m there bro
if “you fly,” i’ll frighten you off, like hip-hop’s scarecrow
forget the cash, i just wanna write bars worth pay
and double the labor of most like a 16 hour work day
blow up like balloons at first grade birthdays
so give me props like its a stage set, hope you enjoyed the word play
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