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---------------------------- I Bleed for This? ------------------------------
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                             Kiss my Black Ass            
                        Appreciated by Jason Farnon


by
Consolidated
                                      
MC PhaT MuTha PhivE is iN da HoUse Y'ALL! DroPpiN JeWwlZ on yo MuLez!
So Suck My DICK, Like WATSON and CRICK!

I'm so def 
I get respect
I do not signal 
When I make a left.

I'm a phat rhymster 
Some call me spastic
When I go to work 
I say "paper or plastic!"

I've got da skills 
To stop oil spills
I buy liquid form
Coz I can't swallow pills.

I'm an urban funkster
Just call me Herman Munster
I once got busy
In a big phat dumpster.

I whipped out my gat
And shot me a cat
Would you like some funky fresh 
Fries wit dat?

I'm a lyrical clam
Damn I'm  the man
I'm kickin' more flava
Than a phat can o' spam.

Words manifest
I use Ultra Crest
My mom knitted me a nice
V-neck sweater vest.

I'm hittin skinz
I'm known in da biz
I'm rippin' dem tags 
Offa mattresses.

Smokin' dat herb at
Case Western Reserve
I'm puttin' suckas down
Like a Bosnian Serb.

I bought me a bag
Damn it was schwag
So I rolled it up 
In an oxy-pad.

My rhyme's they be strong
Like ding-a-ling-a-dong
I put gin and juice
In my six-foot bong.

Sucka MCs 
I ain't no fool
Now get on your knees
And inspect my stool.

Just call me chachee
I ain't no nazi
Brothaz smoke crack
But I just play yahtzee. 

I'm a lyrical jew
Like Winnie the Pooh
I gots a disease
So my balls they be blue.

My rhymes they won't bore ya
So light da menorah
I'm kickin' mad flava 
Like Moses in da Torah.

One, two
In come da Jew
My people talk in yiddish
So g'zai g'zin to you!

I'm da chosen MC
I rhyme for a fee
There's sure to be a doctor
In my family tree.

My people be weird 
My mom's got a beard
When I step to you
Your memory be cleared!

Sucka MCs
They be in terror
When I clock they ass
With a run-time error.

I ride in a row-boat
Just like a Haitian
I'm a put "phat"
In a constant declaration.

I rhyme like a mime
I'm always on time
When I write my verse
I use top-down design.

I'm a wack MC
My directory tree
It ain't called C
Coz I renamed it G.

Get on your knees ho
You better turn a trick
My rhymes are double helix 
Like Watson and Crick

I'm sittin' here rappin'
Buddha's got it happenin'
"Bang, bang, nigga"
That's the sound o' one hand clappin'.

I'm bustin' up mics
I go on nature hikes
Like Hester Prynn
I sewed an A on my Nikes.

I'm droppin's jems to yo mellon
Self-improvement tapes I'm sellin'
My mom jacked some fool
So now she a fellon.

I'm kickin' crazy verse 
I'm about to burst
So listen up y'all
And obey your thirst!

I gots mo' flava
Than a Buick Le Sabre
Like Rober Frost 
I enjoy manual-labor. 

I'm out like a lout
I stutter and shout
I'm doin' bitches up
With my twelve-inch trout.  

Sucka MCs
Will put you in a slumber
My rhymes are more def
Than Avagadro's number. 

I'm gonna teach you a lesson
With my Smith and Wesson
I'm puttin niggaz down
With a bowl o' fat-free dressing.

There ain't no other
Rapper who can stutter
My rhymes are so slick:
"I can't believe it's not butter."

The derivative of my flava
Is the integral of my rhyme
X cubed plus a constant
Is the slope of my nine. 

I gots da bomb
Like Erich Fromm
I cleaned da latreens
Back in Viet-Nam.

I dress like a pimp
I walk with a limp
I see the Browns for free in
My low-rider blimp.

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            IBFT: If we hate you, you don't deserve to know why.

                                Information:
                           bleed@unix.amherst.edu
       ftp.etext.org:/pub/Zines/IBFT  The Eleventh Hour (617)696-3146
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