Awestruck

The great white anomaly

You're coddin' me?

I'm not

I'm just stating the facts kid, you lack wit?

That shit is so tragic

I'm that sick

Well I've a perpetual cold

So I'll make sure to blow my nose before I'm breaking the mould

Taking its toll

I'd rather be embracing a role

On the dole, than play the folly or a foe

Take it in

The track and when I lace it with

Laser wit, tongue in cheek quips, I'm a brazen git

See, I embrace it, I attach it to me sleeve and that

I season tracks well, but pal, you're a seasoned brat

I'd like to state as a prerequisite for all

I spit harder than a John Arne free-kick

I've got the truest grit

And a dollop of some fucking foolishness

I won't stop doing this until I've wardrobes of the newest kicks

But I won't do it for the stardom

I'll do it for the bleary eyes and heartburn

I'll keep it lit and then, heaven knows

Maybe I'll get booked to go and rock the mic at several shows

Of course, I'll keep the family close

Have yiz all head nodding while yiz are on your tippy-toes

Spit the prose

With chipped tooth, pal, and the silly flows

FYNCH is the future, pal, chap, and it's not even close