Improperly droppin' these mockeries of what MC's-
are poppin' these days seems wasteful like a shoppin' spree,
I'm not to be confused as a loser, I'm hot property,
I'd probably snooze if your boo was nude on top of me,
But honestly I'm not the G you'd stop to greet or wanna be,
my policy of gloating, see it's totally involuntary,
to warrant these abhorrent deeds I'd have to be a scholar, me-
I'm just a squalid feen who follows where the dollars lead,
I'm horribly obscene like a foreign breed of noxious weed,
intolerably perverted like a virgin who's an octogene,
my properties when properly professed and preached in prophecies-
would prove purists prudent in proffering philosophies,
a profusity to be reduced to to nuisances like gossip queens,
toss their dreams aside as their pride is squashed impossibly,
my ferocity though what it seems is not achieved incongruously,
I've got to reach velocities beyond the bonds of strong and weak.