[Verse 1: Signor Benedick the Moor]
I'm too much for these n***as
I'm three much for these hoes
Lord knows
I ain't going back to folding f**ing clothes
I suppose
My enemies be trying to turn to bros
When I hit the scene
All my b**hes looking scene
f** the clean radio sh**
Mean shady ho sh**
I spit cannonballs
All you n***as in the ocean
Got potions on potions
My potions got potions
My Mana get replenished when I drink a f**ing potion
Getting slizzard off of Polyjuice
And puff a Phoenix Down
Been a king and I never needed a f**ing crown
s** a dick, cause I said
To f**ing s** a dick
Like Francis Crick
James Watson was a prick
I'm the sh**, wait
Never was an excrement
But my introverted tendencies came
From the pit
And Cthulu calling
I'll never be balling
Cause there's punk in my veins
n***a, I go all in
[Chorus]
Riding in my TARDIS
f** a pop artist
Garlic keep me on my toes
(Cause it taste good)
Metaphorically, allegorically
Categorically dope
To a weak n***a, I speak n***a
And give a n***a some hope
(x2)
[Verse 2: Signor Benedick the Moor]
So I guess I'm dead
All these b**hes looking grateful
When I give them head
But I never love a ho, remember what Dre said
b**hes Ain't sh**, but where's the bread (wait what)
Come on b**h, let's make a f**ing sandwich
You, me, and your friend
Bout to make this sh** scandalous
And i mean in between intercourse sessions
Popping it [?] I'm sorry if I bit your
Girlfriend's an*l-is?
I am outlandish
And unapologetic
Except when I apologize
The sh** like diarretic
My music [?]
Like [?] diabetic
100% real, and 99% synthetic... b**h
[Chorus]
[END]