Donavexx, lyrical asshole

Taking shitty MC tongue to the frozen flagpole

I fart at family functions, landing punches

In the face of life, I paid a grand and three hundred

For my beat machine, my body, I keeps it clean

By eating vegetables, while you claim indestructible

I made 'em feel uncomfortable by talking about some hemorrhoids

And how my parakeet's unemployed

I enjoyed watching old men put Pennzoil

Inside their engines, while eating cookies kept in tin foil

I been spoiled, like the underwear that's been soiled

By my opponents when I assemble microphone kits

Most kids appear domeless

I wonder what their folks did

To make 'em think they flow swift with broken focus

Folk hymns are sung, while my guitar is strung

And then plucked, to make the hip hop purists tense up

Sure it's ten bucks to come and see me at a show

But when I stage dive into Jell-O, you won't care about the dough

But if you still think my shit is wack, you'll get your money back

And then you leave the show and run into two men in funny hats

They'll beat the fuck out of you

Take your wallet out of your back pocket

After that, you'll swell up in the eye sockets

Then I'll finish my show and go to the parking lot

And meet the two men, who then put your loot in my pocket

I've tried jocking myself but that didn't work

After I realized that God was watching with a hidden smirk

I shit a turd that stunk the house for three weekends

Instead of R&B bitches, I do my hooks with Japanese kids

So sing it, shitface!

ふたあつ　ふたあつ　なんでしょね

おめめがいちに　ふたつでしょ

でしょ, でしょ, でしょ, でしょ

でしょ, でしょ, でしょ, でしょ

Ooh, I love farting in the bathtub, at clubs

At home, on the road, in your face unload

In your eyeball, fart while walking on the sidewalk

After nightfall, to the point you spray Lysol

Despite all the things that the people might say

I grab my genitals and tell 'em "have a nice day"

The right way to grab a mic is constantly exhibited

By me, and the MC that knows he's unlimited

It's imminence, like water splashing on the coast lines

Where I go to town meetings

And on the bulletin board I post rhymes

Most times, don't give a fuck about what you telling me

I get excited and crash a third grade spelling bee

And just as a girl named Bethany is about to win my spelling "cheese"

I interrupt the train of thought by yelling "FREEZE!"

And when she sees that I'm nothing but a prankster

She tells the teacher but I proceed to go and yank her for her title

Of third grade vocabularic champion

She starts to cry, I say, "That's what you get for tampering"

With the wordsmith, with the verb gift

The principal got nervous when I ran into his office shirtless

What's the purpose of terrorizing elementary schools?

I don't know, but I penetrate your brain with entry tools

Narratives from the battle-tongue

My record collection consists of twenty-two copies of "Aqualung"

Half-a-lung is what I need to rock a venue

I then do some Herculean shit on the wheels to cold end you

Got the versatility of ten dudes

Next stop my little shit-faced friend

Serves a chorus up from the menu

So sing it, scumbag! Yeah!

ふたあつ　ふたあつ　なんでしょね

おめめがいちに　ふたつでしょ

でしょ, でしょ, でしょ, でしょ

でしょ, でしょ, でしょ, でしょ

でしょ, でしょ, でしょ, でしょ

でしょ, でしょ, でしょ, でしょ

This is Donavexx, aka, Edan

Signing off, baby