Since you're my special friend, come closer for a special treat (Uh) I'm going to let you touch me in a special place (But I don't want to touch you there)
It is never ok to touch someone else's private parts Your mom and dad will tell you so
Verse One: Bigg Jus
Yo' eyes get, blind like Tupac gettin shot in the lobby Most MC's styles is robbery of my freestyles as a hobby I pick apart monkey brains and spread disease through hot zones My cameos on promos seem strange like someone's not home Bigg Jus the outsider rain on your dream field With styles so freaking wet niggas need maxi panty shields Expose more moles out the closet that lead paint on your tenement Got more Black Thought to my Roots than most niggaz got in their pigment It's the baby-faced lieutenant with the Luck like Luciano Hardcore like Kool G Rap music made for concert piano So dust off the candelabra, hip hop's version of the super Don Dada with the license to give more ass whippings than Father You couldn't see me with binoculars, way ahead of myself like telepathy Make most crews disappear like blackheads on Oxy creme Under the lights I fuck up mics with my uncanny ability to heat seek Through brain facilities with the science of microchemistry This history of my hip hop is too deep to be dissected Bitch recollect don't even half step or try to test it black Bigg Jus, I drop so much shit my anus needs an ice pack In fact I'm all that, El-P yo bring the horns back
(Yes) Right through the center of your focus picture a long silver needle (You are correct sir) Piercing the outer lens of your eyesight
[El-P] And once again In one verse we have proven That we can rip all these signed big budget motherfuckers (89.9) Peace to Stretch and Bobbito (Bob-bi-to!)
Verse Two: El-P
Ye olde lyrics of fire Surface bombs from X-wing fighters, stance to B-boy actors fracture Negative thirty below wind chill factor The counteraction is just a helpless action of the hapless flinching My supersonics leave you mute like Maggie Simpson Taxidermist El-P I defy translation Instigate and set in crates(?) throughout your whole situation Practice exposing perfection like Ricki Like exposes white trash My shit is strange X-file number 2-6-7 whiplash Triple felon emcee minus the melanin When I bomb it the type of shit to make Baby Jessica jump in the well again Sunshines or rain acid, El-P the battle master Lactose breaking down your fucking fractals till you're flaccid I'm leaving Las Vegas like a hundred flying Elvises Raid, spot my prey, swoop down and cross their pelvises Rat nerve like David grill smoke bitch Catch my frozen frame suspended You couldn't even fuck with my idle fidget My birthright I'm pulling swords from stones high tone beam Phonetically abort it try to distort it and catch a silent scream, fetus The raw daddy tactics prove Krush Groove unstoppable Testing luck it's like sucking on lead pink popsicles The enigma, no one can fuck with me yet but I'm not signed (You wanna battle?) It's better to look in the (mirror) Say Candyman five times
Candyman (whispered 5x)
Just a promo Understand (Candyman) To be the man you gots to beat the man (It's so clear now) Me and Bigg Jus (The beautiful light) Company Flow clan (I can touch it) Mr. Len, 'sup? 89.9 Hit me with that shit some time
Bigg Jus, Lune TNS The almighty El-P The imperial DJ Mr. Len Company Flow swinging it to you live for '95