Well I may be robot, but I’m mackin’

All the ladies dig my action

The MC to be dissin’ technology

I may be made of metal, like a griddle or a kettle

But I’ll break it off and kick it like a rapping freakin’ devil

All the brothers call me keeya (?)

All the ladies use me as a (?) sexbot

You don’t want what I got

Cuz’ once I get started I don’t stop (what, what!)

And you don’t want what I got

Cuz’ you’ll never beat a motherf-f-fuckin rapbot!

I:

Synthesize the lyric, calculate the time

I got a built in MIDI out digital mind

One million gigabyte digital mind

I say “what what!”, I said a digital mind

All the pretty ladies, all the groupies and sororities are going all night long with me cuz’ all I take are batteries

You don’t want what I got (what! what!)

Cuz once I get started I don’t stop

And you don’t want I got

How you gonna beat a freakin’ robot, huh?

(Punk!)

I got a laser thing, and a blinking light

I’m like some kinda rapping Swiss army knife

I got a toaster (what what!) to make a sandwich

And did I mention I can rhyme in any language?

I was programmed to succeed

And conquer (?) every MC that I meet

And download nasty phat-ass beats

And anything less I shall delete

All systems checked: 1, 2, 1, 3

My hard-drives read at lightning speed

Peace!