Из альбома: Music for the Mature B-Boy
I like to rap a lot so permit me to rap a little,
My name is Abdominal, I'll make you laugh and giggle,
Just like a little school girl when I'm touching the mike,
Me and the crap rappers, nothing alike,
Because they're crap,
And I'm not,
Care to demonstrate?
Why not,
Let me take this little opportunity so you can see how you and me be different when it comes to fluency, the crowd be rooting me and booing thee, first the three lines that you be polluting the atmosphere with, you get subjected to scrutiny, stupidly oblivious to this soon-to-be mutiny on the part of the crowd, eventually even your crew would be,
'Abdominal, he's pretty damn good'
So get off the stage man,
Won't you remove those bananas from your earholes and pay attention,
In the long run, this will bring everyone less tension,
And I won't be forced to have to hit you with these vicious battle raps,
But really less battle raps than straight-up facts,
Kinda like a news report,
'Untrue'? Fuck you be this Jews retort,
You lose your sport, can't you see your predicament?
Nurse, gauze, and lots of ligament,
Victim sent courtesy of a friendly neighbourhood Abdominal,
Doing his best to fill the hospitals,
They say he's some sort of musical vigilante, on a one an crusade to do away with anything even remotely whack,
He rips the lips off of rappers and freeze their tracks.
We really can't thank him enough, I'd like to shake his hand,
Say thanks for taking a stand, evacuating the land from the uncreative and bland
(Nurse): Doctor is it true when they say that he's as handsome as a deity?
Like a chiselled Greek God,
Plus nimble like a tree frog, possessing the strength of ten men,
Who each possess the strength of ten men!
(Nurse): In other words the strength of a hundred men?
Nurse, please don't interrupt me when I'm in the midst of a homage to this folk legend, rumour has it that he's bench-pressing 400 pounds and that's with the left arm alone.
(Nurse): What about the right?
Writing poems, simultaneously, insane you can see but that's the type of MC that we're dealing with here,
Highly creative inunciation and perfectly lyrical style, versatile very flexible, breath control unparalleled,
In his line of work his rhymes'll hurt these spineless jerks, yeah, but still find the time to flirt (breath) with all kinds of skirts
(Nurse): He should try a nurse...
Keep your mind on your work, like he keeps his mind on the verse, when he's timing his words you can set your clock to the rhyme you heard, enimating from between the two lips of the A-B-D-O-M-I-N-A-L,
Suckers think they swell, he'll be like 'Hmm, pray tell'
They stray K-Tel whereas he'd be cool chilling,
Steady knocking fillings out of mouths of supervillains,
And then charging them for dental repairs,
Lay them down gently in the dental chair,
Fasten the belt, a real no-brainer,
Next step in the procedure administer the novacaine or better yet a more effective anaesthetic like a pint of chilled rubbing alcohol for the vocally pathetic,
Whilst they're snoring the work commences by this blood-splattered demented dentist,
Dr. Abdominal extracting tongues, rendering whack rappers dumb,
Those who like they got a bit of endurance,
Also get their lips sewn up for insurance,
I know it sounds harsh but he can't be sympathetic in his war against the rappers, it's an epidemic spreading over cities, nations and continents,
Abdominal, heaven-sent antidote, through dopeness,
With an 'M' on my chest, for Microphonist.