Return of the Freak Emcee

This for all those fake ass folk singers out there Talking about how much money they got How many banjos they play Coming up on my tv and in my radio Telling me all about their life and how fat and large they livin Well i got a song for you, cause that aint the life that im livin I dont know nothin about that life... I AM BROKE. ive got nothin to show for a wasted nights up writin blood on the banjo My haydays waste away, lord knows fridays come and go with no pay day Mayday, is it the first or rayday, i spent the whole day dodging my landlady Selling out shows from Philly to So-ho With girlies in front row who know how all my songs go You'd never know it by lookin at me though Still rocking the ripped jeans, the thrift tees, the bo-bo's Lord knows hobos got better clothes, but nobodys got more soul or mojo Occasionally breaking the nose of those who dont know im no joke and im no glass joe So if you wanted my hook, buddy here it goes Hold your nose, it's medicine time, my story goes: The return of the incredible-edible freak MC, the lyrical miracle, thats what they call me. believe, i've got the mind to rock rhymes for lifetime I've got no cheese, to buy my trees No dough to blow on kilos of yayo No hoes, no bling, no videos, no shiny things, bankrolled rings no cash flow Im living on things like ring dings and ho-hos. Drinking ying-ling and chain smokin marlboros I've got enough dough to get drunk though And pour some out for the rat pack- ring a ding ding ya know? Got the ghetto booze and weed Im so broke i cant get enough of these Im a tough act to follow but an easy man to please, so lord wont you buy me that SUV But the lord only helps those who help themselves So dont mind me if i do, help myself to your top shelf OH! Nana! Oh no no, no no no... Woah oh! Ohhhh!! Step on stage and the whole world fades to black Got my ying-ling and six strings strapped I give the microphone a check- hollas and claps Now everybody in the place from the front to the back is feelin all right Theres no stopping tonight. we got that Bri-style poppin in the place tonight We got the sound booth on lockdown tonight So give me some space, give me a beat, and give me that mic Twelve bars on an old guitar, i'll give ya old shit with a new twist And be like right before the part thats like sometimes i gotta go double time to make all the rhymes in my flow fit The riddlin kid has done it again, with the strength of ten men and the power of zen! I've got your girlfriend, lickin her lips again Ready to leave the one shes with, and start a new relationship with... See? Come on! nanananow