Garfield

It ain't nuttin' like a fist full of cash or a bliss full of the hash
That twist like a mustache, from end to end, spread it like a rash
From talking through your Walkman or at your disco bash
Give me the Timbs Rumpelstiltskin brown
A metal face mask with a built in frown
A mic to tilt down, a hundred thousand pounds
And see how kilt sound like spilt milk clown
Cocoa butter on very ashy day fam
With Ray-Bans out on the islands of Cayman
Or I'll break it down for the layman
Bain De Soleil for that Saint Trope.
Daaaaamn
A can a ole gold too cold to hold, slow ya roll
Keep on moving like Soul II Soul, hold the dough
Like a fool who stole pity y'all
From tryna' go up against city hall titty bar
The black mic is like a red violin
Ok, everybody back to the lab, try again
Bloody rap game like Leviathan
Leave a bad taste, killin' my high like Niacin
Stop kiddin' middlemen need Ritalin
Hit me with the full tin of gin and I'm a kid again
Keep the bong lightin' straight through the song writin'
The Supervillain AKA the thong bitin', that's inviting all
To the reciting that's dope and raw
Hoping all y'all come in peace and its open bar
Tear the roof off this Bumba Ras Clot
By the end of the night spazz like Shazbot
Spilt a shot made the pen lines runny
A ill plot that's ten times Ben Stein's money, funny
How he rips the scripts with a straight face
With more rhymes than is lines in ya database
Placing rappers in endangerment, who's reckless
With this food for thought sorta' like breakfast
You could mark it off as wreck on the checklist
Wear gold fronts, can't afford no necklace
Shit, that there, could go to help buildin' daycares
Somebody say yeahh
Pay ya fares, give the Herbalizers their shares
And y'all could pay DOOM in beers. Cheers!