| Yo, Afu, what’s up man
|
| It is I, Blob, hehehehe
|
| The invisible bully, let’s show
|
| These cats what time it is
|
| If you feeling like it’s safe, put ya hands up
|
| Bust ya head to the beat, and put ya hands up
|
| Man, get up out ya seat, and put ya hands up
|
| And forget about the beat, put ya hands up
|
| If you really got skills, put ya hands up
|
| If you trynna get a mil, put ya hands up
|
| If you doing, what you doing, put ya hands up
|
| If you ballin', with ya crew, put ya hands up
|
| You see my mind, has a point of view
|
| It’s I’m unhurtable, or was it thoughts
|
| That you would ever think I cater to
|
| The combination of a never lyricist, uh-huh
|
| Nah, how they gonna imagine that shit
|
| I’m technilogical and anger the lip
|
| That’s right, I’m like Battlestar Galactica
|
| Trapped inside a math book, you want the horrific
|
| Plus the terrific, I’m that kung fu kickin', cee-lo player
|
| Mad scientist, I’m with the hidden agenda
|
| I’m tearin' off my Mask, and yet, I’m still an Avenger
|
| I’m ready and the surrender, to go in back of ya neck
|
| To put your body, in check, so what’s up
|
| If I couldn’t rap, my shit’ll be tapped in marse code
|
| Scanned bout thousand radios, like barcodes
|
| Fuck most, I’m the rapper, from down south
|
| Spit flames, my throat all soap with a foul mouth
|
| The type of cat, that swing a bat, and wild out
|
| Treat MC’s like kids, put 'em in timeouts
|
| Press 'em like tape decks, let them rewind out
|
| I’m the best kept secret, D&D done found out
|
| You saw me on the news, with the four pound out
|
| Five state troopers there, chopped them down
|
| Said the found wounded three was upside down
|
| Oh shit, what the fuck, Don Parma' done gun out
|
| Behold how Blob, will blab a rap, or a hero
|
| Cease that crap like cee-lo, chico
|
| I drown that damn deliverance, with my demo
|
| I’m crack, don’t let me do that ass, since Debo
|
| Hah, yo, hocus pocus, with a position, gentleman
|
| I rub it on, like a letterman
|
| It’s spearmint fragrance, or a flack of cinnamon
|
| Soon as I leave the crime scene, they say it’s him again
|
| Who warned ya, tear ya half way down like a waffle
|
| Pound ya predator, til ya, permimently puzzled
|
| Pussy don’t push me, or you’ll be found in th puddle
|
| Now how’s that for, a hammerfied huddle
|
| Oooh, you dirty rat, I’m stellar
|
| If I have to fix it, I’mma kick it acapella
|
| Totally time binding, I been ascending
|
| Arabian Knight on the track, jump off the building |