[Intro]

[Verse 1: Carlos Ferragamo]

Yo!

Ciao the motherfucking dungeon of rap

How you cum if minus the sperm the dick the college chick with a perm

Who's the number one Bronx MC?

That be me, capital 'C', yup, 'A' to the 'R-LOS'

Pronounce it 'Carlos', Ferragamo the surname

Here bringin' finest hip-hop minus the rope chain

You've prolly never heard of me like I got no name

Train on the tracks, we're fire without the propane

Air Force 1's on the feet, color of cocaine (what?)

DJ bring it back sorta like Rogaine?

Battle me stupid like PS3 with no game

Or computers with no monitors

Check the thermometer, spit longer than four kilometers

Shine bright like the North Star Andromeda, for real

Smack the top of the face, no ice grill

Cuz I came from the hood and I could go back still

[Verse 2: e-dubble]

I got it, I'm on it

No pause, no comma

Straight through, no juice still spit like a Llama

Yeh, new week, new treat like a comic

I ain't talking stand-up but I like 'yo-mamma's'

Promise gets kept; your threats ain't honest

Thirty-three weeks deep, keep dodging them Piranhas

Jaw drops like you just saw Rihanna in pajamas and you got it on tape so rewind it

Play it again, the good shit reigning 'em in

Carlos and e-dub, we playing to win

I'm tryna spread the good seed like I came in the wind

Pollinating 'til the politics can come to an end

Honestly, this new shit is transcendent

Everyone's a critic nowadays

Go ahead and hit send, bitch

The Internet is like a living organism for some haters to create a persona they ain't livin' yet

And probably never will, I'll probably never spill

My cup is a carafe and my balance be that of Jedi skill

You better bet I'm ill

I hate to brag but before I go out, I hope I got an Eddie Vedder will

Lots of assets, no liability

I'm saddened by the passionless people with no abilities

And I ain't talkin' 'bout the people with the Scrillogys

Equivalent to Terry Jones sermonizing in Tripoli

Ack

Bullshittin' while I think about victory

Happy to be stubborn, I'm never uttering 'Pretty please?'

Too many Favre's in the pocket—no tickling

We sweat to pay dues, Ray Lewis take a whiff of these

Dirty uniforms, never keep them shit's white

Go and fuck yourself if you need your shit wiped

Do for self or go ahead and get your shit swiped

Unconvinced I'm equal, inherit shit but a shit life

Talkin' down to me is something that you can't do

I'm seven foot, you're Mikulski in a pant suit

I see your dandruff and you need to shampoo

Bill Clinton your ass free willy 'til I Shamu

Or ShamWow, I took the damn vows

Married to this shit, hip-hop is my spouse

No movie, my mind has no doubt

But I'm livin' in the parable, now you go pout

[Outro: e-dubble]

Yeah! Freestyle Friday #33. Thursday, September 9th. Shout out to Carlos Ferragamo, my homeboy from the Bronx, for killing it on the track! Thanks for killing it, homeboy

Plenty more where that came from; hope everybody enjoyed it

Tonight is, uh, NFL Kickoff night. So, happy motherfucking football season, everybody! Whoever your team is, whoever your team is

Y' know, we're diplomats here. I wish everybody good luck. Go Vikings; go Saints, but I'm pretty sure Reggie Bush is gonna be running over people tonight

I don't know if you've seen that RedZone campaign, but I wanted to get one of those G-Damn autographed footballs, you know?

Shout out to Activate Social, Black Paisley. Please go to Facebook.com/edubhiphop, Twitter.com/edubhiphop

Shout out to GoodMusicAllDay, and all the wonderful blogs

And, uh, get ready for the mixtape, Written Thursday. It's, uh, it's coming up. And it's, uh, it's coming pretty fast. See ya guys!