Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1: The Walkman]
I practice magic
These rapper poetasters practice sucking phallus
I could craft these raps until my hand is callous
In fact, it’s practically habit
I could tap out a rap on a tablet
Sew scraps to the back of my jacket
In the pattern of a rhyme
And then turn around and rap it
I’m magic
And you’re average trash, just jack shit, whack shit, bastard
But why so serious?
Seriously, I am not this furious
I’m just a little pissed how you act once
You insist that you won’t get packed in my sack lunch
But you shouldn’t be oh so sure
You shouldn’t feel so secure
Cause I can slip through straight jackets like I was covered in vegetable oil
I easily weave my way through incomprehensible coils
I can read your mind
I have mastered hypnosis
And I don’t know if you noticed
But I fuck with this hokus pokus
Theurgy
[Verse 2: The Walkman]
My spell book is a dictionary
And I can’t tell if that’s funny or not
I am a missionary
But bitches don’t toss me the box a lot
I knock beats right out of the parking lot
When I start to stock up my magical tricks
You suck like a bag full of dicks
You ingrate, inbred ape, and bitch
I mumble an incantation
I give a flick of the wrist
I would take the skill right out of you but it doesn’t exist
Fuck your stupid disc
I got the gist in a minute
It’s premise is easy to mimic
Your shit is a gimmick and nearing it’s limit
You should either be tutored or neutered
Hip hop needs a suitable suitor
And I am the dude of the future
You’re not even suited to use a computer
But that hardly seems to matter
As you will become a cadaver
When I make your career disappear like
Abra fucking kadabra
Theurgy
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