I was walkin’ down the street in June
I was walkin’ with my fork and spoon
Went into Dairy Queen to buy a float
Then ran out to tie my Billy Goat
Got a shovel for my friends in line
They talkin’ funny stuff all the time
Got a cake and a cone and shake
With shamrock green and no snake
Cause I’m an Irishman rappin’ cool
Like Saint Patrick or a holy well pool
I’m the ticket, yes. that’s the truth
cause I can rap like an inpacted tooth
Yeah…yeah..yeah..yeah
Yeah…yeah…yeah…yeah.
Ad nauseum…
“This rap was brought to you today by the letter R and the number 1.”
…and this is why I don’t rap. It is as painful as listening to Big Bird trying to sing an intelligent song, or watching garbage trucks pass through a gate…for a living. I’m going to stick with real poetry…can I get a witness?