Its the funk-master
Here to help out with the disaster
I done caught up with the faster
Now I'm your new headmaster
No i don't practice fucking islam
I don't like wearing bombs
And worshipping saddam
I got more rhymes then the bibles got psalms
Put out your palm and give me a high five
Move over bitch let the master drive
I know where im going and what i gotta do to survive
Your just struggling to fucking stay alive
Just got an amber alert
Theres a missing pervert that left a gps insert-
-ed in his ass guess he skipped dessert
His mom left his skirt at my crib
Tell her to come over & ill make her squirt and rub her nips
Chunk? Fuck chunk he's sailed his ship
And gone out smaller than a microchip
And broke his hip
While trying to equip himself with good raps
Guess he couldn't carry the weight like needed to relax
And do some more crack
So he handed the mic to jack
And said take it son
It may help you in the long run
He thought you wanted a chunk dirty rerun
Well now he's undone, outdone, and overrun
Because look what I've begun
My raps could be used as a murder weapon
This raps too long
Im rappin so fast it sounds like ching chang chong
Im gonna need a another rip o' that bong
Pass it this way laddie and lets end the song