[Verse 1: Agent 23]
It's 23; hard to find me in the spot sober
I tuned in, turned on, dropped out, and got over
My only religion is spittin' 'til God shows up
And found peace; with every beat, I'm a lot closer
Trapped between seeking wisdom and hedonism
I see visions; speak of my rhythm and people listen
Cause I rock thorough; dawn to dusk and nocturnal
Got inside my mind; minds are bent like crop circles
Underground spit; still ram-shackled
But my jams tackle cats; tide away the sand castles
The way I spit it, every album is a riddle
Because I'm gifted like Malcolm in the Middle
I got it covered; competitors sweat like brick and
Hot mustard; getting hang-ups like wrong numbers
Anti-aircraft aimed at the wack when I wage war
But laidback; this is the path it was laid for
Laidback; this is the path I was made for
Laidback, yo, yo
[Hook: Agent 23]
Cause I'm addicted to funk like drunks to sip bottles
If I don't grip the mic, then I suffer withdrawals
That are just awful; so I kick my flows out
While cats keep yelling like "no doubt"
Addicted to funk like drunks to sip bottles
If I don't grip the mic, then I suffer withdrawals
That are just awful; so I smash tracks to bits
While cats keep talking about it like "that's the sh**"
[Verse 2: Agent 23]
My cabinets with no books are cavernous
My pens are ravenous; sleep is sacrilege
Speaking for the universe and serving as a catalyst
Strictly pure sh**; no preservatives and additives
It's 23 giving what you need
And I can't stop moving like that bus in Speed
I must travel every city and country from Sydney to Hungary
Making a living by spitting on funk beats as I'm
Ready to get grungy but mastered fantastic
Pump up the ba** and blast the hand clap sh**
Let's get it going; so co*ky when I'm flowing
That I speak as spokesman writing slogans for Trojan
I get you open like heart surgery
And only the cat behind the bar is serving me
But whether it be studio joints or handheld sh**
I got to rip the mic; I can't help it
I can't help it
I can't help it
Uh-uh, because, because
[Hook: Agent 23]
Cause I'm addicted to funk like drunks to sip bottles
If I don't grip the mic, then I suffer withdrawals
That are just awful; so I shoot my slang
While cats keep yelling like "do your thang"
Addicted to funk like drunks to sip bottles
If I don't grip the mic, then I suffer withdrawals
That are just awful; so I let the lyrics rip
While cats keep talking about it like "I'm feeling it"
[Verse 3: Agent 23]
Write diligent; shine like filament
Given the mics away like "Stop me before I k** again!"
Busting sessions, crushing peasants
With the best inventions since combustion engines
Welcome to the eye of the storm when I perform
I get crowds moving like pulling fire alarms
The oldie spot rocker; never co*k-blocker
Got proppers; haters bite balls like gobstoppers
Now watch the head nod; kind of a stiff neck
So, no I ain't rich yet, or hope to get big checks
But I rhyme 'cause I enjoy it, not to go exploit it
To an industry that's full of sh** like broken toilets
Third-eye; we going 20/20 like Sealab
Rhyming gets me higher than zigzags and weed bags
I can't relax; I just relapse
23's a full-on addict like "f** rehab!"
23, funkaholic for life, G.F.E