Friday, September 9, 2011

[While stuck in PsyChik's PsyBeam, Sonic bumps into Mega Man, causing a moment of tension...] / Famtana

OH, Hannah Montanilton!

Charlie Man-…
Charlie Mantana, I don’t know…
Charles Manson…


Harlem Montana…
My new sh1t…
Chill, Famtana.

Check me out, uh…

CHIIIIL, Famtana!
‘Cause it could get, ILLLLLL, Famtana!

As SOON as the block start BLACKIIIIN’…
Here come the precinct and the CAPTAAAAIN…


CHIIIIL, Famtana!
CHIIIIL, Famtana!

We goin’ in, goin’ in-in, goin’ in again.
Goin’ in, goin’ in-in, goin’ in again.


[Verse 1]
I have no swag, I have characteristics;
Most of you characters miss it.

Like character select, from a distance.
In the game? These n1gga can’t kick sh1t.

Like Tekken.
Or Marvel vs. Capcom.
Pounds to my n1gga for reppin’.
But y’all ain’t my brethren.
Matter fact, y’all should just keep steppin’, before you get the “FINISH HIM!” and a Fatality.
All these rappers, all say they battle me.
What’s your name? Where do you work?
Your store CLOSED. N1gga, you’re a jerk.
You’ve been shut down.
Throw it in the bag.
Brown paper? I don’t even have to be around haters.
Give dap to one dude, ‘cause his music is cool.
Other [than] that?
You music fools, already lose.


[Verse 2]
Every rapper who has ever dissed me? Is broke.
So I got broke, just to give them n1ggas hope.
Then I ended up in they’ chicken’s throat.

Now I’m ridin’ in they’ chicken’s cope.

Oops. I meant coupe.
But put the “C” in front of oops?
And I’m still right.


Baby powder all in the booth…
N1gga, I’m white, just like my “roots“.

Call me powder.

My roots could be white, ‘cause I got dandruff, and I refuse to shower.

I keep it funky…

(Ooh-ooh! Ooh-ooh! Ooh! Ooh!)
(“You hear the beat sayin’ “Ooh”?)

The f*ckin’ BEAT had to sniff me.
Now I’m feelin’ comfy.
One of y’all wanna diss me, it’s only because you’re broke, and your b*tch just finished humpin’ me.


[Verse 3]
The morning I woke up, and realized I was attractive?

Man, I did some backflips.
Then did a front flip, and got it crackin’.
Like, “DAAAM, Shorty, are we shaggin’?”
Unfortunately, I am just braggin’.
I was lookin’ at a commercial for Volkswagen.
You know how they be havin’ them white folks askin’ if…
Passenger see, the drive is your passion?
Well, drivers are wanted.
And I be ridin' with drivers who are blunted.
So high, and the island is feelin' like I reside in my stomach;
Because, I ain't got nothin' on it.

Now ponder upon it.
For just one moment, and realize I vomit.
But since most cats vomit…
… How ‘bout I straight up, BOMB it.
(Let’s go…)

*beat plays*

... For the president, OF the president…

I’m tryin’ to run the n1ggas, who run the people, of which I entertain..


*leaves booth*

No comments: