Original Butterscotch Confection

[Verse: Busdriver & Open Mike Eagle]

All my niggas with Vulcan ears

Are auctioneers for these tape deck airlifts

While these thuggy rugby playing Huggy bears

Rally for same-sex marriage

They're having children out of wedlock after latex tearing

Leaving their honorable families disgraced

Embarrassed

They rap in Gaelic hair care tips and run shit like a legless heiress

Wait, what the fuck am I saying?

The pen's pregnant

It's waddling with its ankles swollen

About to give birth to what should have been the Bangles' opus

It's a bouquet full of faded roses

But tighter than Lederhosen

When German tanks invaded Poland

But not as tight as the acceptance speech

That I gave the thankful mole men

As I'm crowned king

I'm Yao Ming under the turntable molding

I've got the sexiest job

Espionage and fandangled coding

As I lie to millions like Dan Rather

Well, fuck it

I'll be a dance rapper

Fastening my pants backwards

Rambling about Franz Ferdinand and Franz Kafka

For spittin' it nice

I'll give you advice like Ann Landers

And from me you shall be handed lanyards

Before you're picked clean

Your haircut's 16 when you're obviously 36

Gravy drips on your pancreas in my serving dish

Cause I don't approve bookings of Sexual Chocolate's front man

I crush his glands to the size of a Hershey's kiss

In a cursing fit

We get down like treasure hunters unearthing shit

Nasty as Heather Hunter's leather covered nursing tits

Writing with feathers from buzzards on weathered rubber

And these cheddar lovers suck

Cause they've yet to discover Thirsty Fish

Mother f' your puckered pecker when you're dressed like Sgt. Pepper

This larkish feather writes the largest letters on the parchment ever

Cut the cheddar stutter-stepper and I'll glue your stuff together

Stuffin' letters cussin' cause I like your mother's muffins better

See you've been outted by the unexcitable diploma earner

Sojourner Truth's afterbirth hanging off of some Chola's cursor click

We stick together like frozen burgers

The shit we spit is original as the oldest

Werther's Butterscotch confection

[Outro: Busdriver]

Man these fools can't even rap half as tight

I be going to their funerals blowing bagpipes, aha

Fool, I'm twice as dope, I'm longer than an isotopes half-life

Get it, cause I'm long, I'm long, I'm long

Either my shlong, or my career, ugh

Yea, I'm a cypher eradicator, No I'm not

Too old for that shit, too old for that shit

So I got to go on with it, rapping...