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The Rappist Lyrics

Well, my name is Schaffer and I'm here to say
I can rock the mic in the old school way
I got the funky sound
And right about now I'd like to break it down
Uh, uh, say what?
Don't call it hip-hop, because it really isn't
If you listen, it's another, but just a little different
Rhythmically delivered lyrics over wicked beats
Are the end of this and hip-hop's similarities

'Cause I don't bounce and I don't rap, and
See, look at me, I look like an a**, man
No crew, no gin and juice,
I'm no Dr. Dre, I'm more like Dr. Seuss

I wouldn't use the word "rapper", it's rather inaccurate
I do talk fast, driving words like immaculate
Hubba bubba bubble gum, bubble-licious bubble yum
Rubber baby buggy b**pers, this is dumb

I don't rap about the ladies, all are individuals
Or call my b******' about the world political
I don't send shout-outs, I don't ever front
I just discuss a bunch of goofy stuff and say "what?"

I'm not the baddest, or the fastest, or the fattest
My name is STD, my people call me The Rappist
I'm no rapper, this isn't hip-hop
Call me The Rappist, and you don't stop

Well, I'm not the baddest, or the fastest, fattest
My name is STD, my people call me The Rappist
Everyone will wonder what the booker was under when come on out and step to the mic
You were asking for a rapper, instead you got The Rappist, and it happens there's no one I'm like
(Out of sight)

I don't free-style, I only write my words
And I'm singing it. To me, winging it's for the birds
I often get asked to by non-rapid band nerds
"STD" is the abbreviation for "standard"
(Go)

No DJ, no need for turn-tables,
Just give me my Vox, a 58, and a cable
And on Stage D I am some monitors, sue (?)
But keep the reverb off my mix, sound man, thank you

And I don't play tough and say "step the f*** back"
What the f*** is that? That's not how I act
I like to keep my audience up close to the stage
I'd rather you'd stay than chased away when I play

So, where's Queens at? (What?) Where's Queens at? (What?)
Dude, let me show you on this street map (Oh)
It's right here, over Roosevelt, across the East River
That's enough of that c***, I've got some raps to deliver
(Oh!)

Everybody... look at me.
Who's he? He's STD
He's a geek, he's no MC
Just who the hell's he s'posed to be?
(Oh!)
And he's so... I don't know, I know he's no rapper
And that's when I go: ho-tel, mo-tel, Holiday Inn?
Killer out of sight, it's The Rappist delight
With goose b**ps and jumping out of your skin
(I win)

I don't dance, never. Not a god d*** chance
I stand in the back clutching a cup in my stance
One hand in my pocket, head nodding, hunched over
Sipping cheap yellow beer right before the show's over

When a rapper says "throw your hands up," I don't
When a rapper says "make some noise," I won't
Bossing your audience is awfully pompous
So I'll never do it, that's the STD promise

I'll never battle rap or rap like I'm black
And I'll try to never lose sight of just where I'm at
God d*** it! I'll never do that again
And by "that" I mean end a sentence with a preposition

I got props for the real hip-hop
Those who pop and lock to the beat of a boom-box
Those who c*** their glocks and go "f*** the cops!"
It's just not how I rock, and I don't stop

Everybody... look at me.
Who's he? He's STD
He's a geek, he's no MC
Just who the hell's he s'posed to be?
(Oh!)

And he's so... I don't know, I know he's no rapper
And that's when I go: don't push me 'cause I'm close to the edge and I'm trying not to lose my head?
In the west, I'm the raddest, I'm the best, I'm The Rappist
On the street, I've not a drop of cred
(I'm dead)
I almost always write my rhymes on a page
Three by five notebook, I buy a write aid (?)
And I like to write them with a Pilot Precise5
Rolling ball, black ink, and extra fine, I

Don't need a t**ular line
Stickin' to my beat and write original rhymes
Indeed, I smoke weed, I rarely write without it
But I don't really feel that means I need to rap about it

I guess I write a song by my formula, which is
Three verses, followed by three choruses
But never open going "yo yo"
When I here a rapper do that, I go "oh no"

So, I'm not implying that you don't know what you're doing
But often times, awful rhymes do ruin
An otherwise perfectly fine instrumental
I think you should avoid ink and write with a pencil

And, uh, erase parts that don't sound so hot
This will all be covered in my workshop
Entitled: "this is how to write a rhyme"
At least, it's how to write it in a style that's mine

Everybody... look at me.
Who's he? He's STD
He's a geek, he's no MC
Just who the hell's he s'posed to be?
(Oh!)

And he's so... I don't know, I know he's no rapper
And that's when I go: "whoo whoo" that's the sound of the police
But I really doubt they're coming for me
Because I've done no crime, I'm just doing my thing, I'm The Rappist known as STD

Don't call it hip-hop, because it really isn't
It's just a little different, did you listen as I did it?
I just spit a mile a minute, now I'll hit it and quit it
I'm only kidding, you with it, you in it, you get it?

Well, I'm not the baddest, or the fastest, fattest
My name is STD, my people call me The Rappist
Bass... how low can you go? Death row, what a brother know?
This is the end of the track called "The Rappist"
And thanks for coming out to the show
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