[Verse 1:Chapstick]

Look… When it… Comes to hip-hop, you take the wrong angle

No wonder the games all mangled and its not tranquil

I’m getting it off my chest like a chick with her bra tangled

Leaving them broken like some badly crossed ankles

Squares I run circles around and I’m serving tonight

I’m phat while you’re just out of shape, style is perfect to bite

Smarts or hotness is irrelevant to a jerk with a mic

You can have 90 degrees and never really be right

Now I’m a nerd, screw LaCoste, I like the Crocs alligators

Last time I found “sin” I was probably staring at calculators

"But that sin was simply a sine I will make quadratic paper

“Curving exponentially,” wonder why I have a hater?

They’re “finna function,” I’m in class trying to solve some

Talking about math problems when I tell them that I’m “on one”

Nobody wanna be positive, its like an AIDS clinic

But the rhythm be giving a symptom of popped mollies so I stay spitting

[Skit 1: Chapstick, Cody and Zane]

Cody: Dude that was too fast. Nobody is going to understand that

Chapstick: Well I thought it was cool so how's that sound?

Zane: It actually sucked though. It was disappointing

Chapstick: Don't talk to me that way, okay? You know how I get with my feelings

Cody: Look I'm just saying that nobody our age is going to get this

[Verse 2: Chapstick]

This… Generation sucks and yet we’re proud of all this

Since Kanye dropped out of college, the crowd won’t stop with...

All this, but since hip-hop ran out of knowledge

I’ve stayed in the bars like criminals or alcoholics

Music stands to fall, it can’t be solved and that's a problem

Went from making songs on basketball to how they’re “ballin',”

But they’re out their noggin if they think they’re actually ballin'

With a “w” I suppose, blind like they got damaged optics

Maybe I’m blind too, where eyes should be my head is empty

And the only time my vision seems to work is when I emcee

Touching all senses: eyes, ears, mouth

See you stink, tasteless, touch you as you hear it now

Now I’m a pacifist but get violent in flows

When I deal you more punches than Sylas did Joe

Eating emcees, a punchlines to lunch line

Don’t just murder an “M” and a “C”, its the whole alphabet, what a fun time

A Better Choice: Doing Emceeing For Good, Hey I Just Kill Losers, Michaels Not Optimistic

Pretty Quickly Ripping Stupid Tools, Unusually Valuable, Well eXcuse You, Zealous of all I’m spitting

Take the first letter from each word in the last four bars I said

Put them in order, thats proof I murder the alphabet

These punches are foreign, they are something important

And now you know I’m off the hook like I just got done with a chorus

[Skit 2: Chapstick, Cody and Igor]

Cody:I see what you did there. With like... The alphabet and such. That was... That was good

Igor: Michael!

Chapstick: Oh my... What?

Igor: We're out of pizza rolls Michael! And the Tivo stopped working!

Chapstick: Thats not even my... Alright third verse

[Verse 3: Chapstick]

Forget a smart phone, literarys the device on me

Analyzing An Alliteration And Analogies

I like similes as much as the checkerboard…

Of a nerd when he gets a better score than he ever gets before

Gotta meet the number after 3 for sure

And turn a noun into a verb because you never metaphor

Bars like that you don’t get, puns are too subtle

Go right over your head like speeches in cartoon bubbles

Come record with that rhyme scheme, you might suffer, sir

I'll have you running out like a store with too many customers

Look at you with your single and double syllables

Thinking you’re cool but I’m eating it up like "really dude?"

Listen to that, this is a nine syllable rhyme scheme

Wicked and bad, I’m killin’ it nightly

Stickin' to fact, try getting behind me

Ripping a track? Try killing it... Right see

You couldn't kill it with a weapon drawn

This rap thing? You get it wrong and you are what I'm stepping on

A song of yours is what I'm never on

"I heard Suburban, I'm offended dawg."

They’re like “he on one,” you’re a peon son

Check these next 4 bars, I will “P” on em’

Puny Posers Pose as Puny Pricks

Producing Plenty of Pride Provokes me to be Pissed

Peers Pen Pathetic Poems, Peeved at my Pun rhymes

Puny Percent Protected from these Pointless Punchlines

Think they’d have chicks if the wealth did vanish

“Yo yo yo,” like talking to themselves in Spanish

I hope to be the best in cypher, intelligent writer

While others get punched like paper meant for binders

"Yo mato," I kill in any language, I’m there bro

If “you fly,” I’ll frighten you off, like hip-hop's scarecrow

Forget the cash, I just wanna write bars worth pay

And double the labor of most like a 16 hour work day

Blow up like balloons at first grade birthdays

So give me props like its a stage set, hope you enjoyed the word play