Camera’s flashin’, caught her dancin, while possessed by Michael Jackson.
Not grabbin’ her crotch,
cuz she’s too deep in thought,
boots reason with socks,
And she teases the jocks.
I mean look at her rudder , ha ha I just steered your mind right into the gutter.
“Take off your shoes”, you mutter. Be my muse, replace the fat in my butter.
Come on… She’s a mother,
I know you want to suckle until the milk fills your belly and breaks your buckle. Please give the breasts a rest, there not in a tussle and she’s not flexin’ muscle.
I know you want milk with your cookie, but today your cookie must crumble. She’s in a perfect pose not a stumble, looks like she could be that actress from The Exorcism of Emily Rose.
Exercising my flows, not dirty just washing corn rows where corn grows, ethanol at the pump, corn woes. Fighting hunger and hoarding corn sto’s. Ok, let’s get back to her, she’s the one with straighten elbows.
She’s balancing on a yellow line, while I rap in musical time, don’t need a beat, I beat out futile rhymes…