Chattertime

I came up without a name
Caucasian persuasion disqualified me from the game
They said I was lame;
But I don't listen to the slander
Ubiquitous banter's everywhere but I'm about to put a damper on the industry
This is me, call me Mad Chatter
I'm badder than Jackson, satisfaction happens when I'm rappin'
Up in a tree without a ladder has got you sadder than tears -
Never thought my words would make it to your ears
Well here you have it -
A radical habit so avidly savage
It'll have all you average agates grabbin' and packin' your baggage
Fuck the closet, bitch - I'm outta the cabinet
Still mappin’ more tracks than half of you erratic inadequate (maggots)
So fuckin’ metal I attract magnets magically
The madness is tragic, see
I’m a package from the saddest pastures
The baddest master of that new sound –
Grabbin’ the mic, rippin’ it up and then draggin’ it to a new town
I’ll rip the roof down and make way for sunlight
I’m dropping nuclear bombs on the gunfight
Had a couple of homies to show me the fun sight of luminous wealth
But you’ve gotta do it yourself if you want shit done right
So now I’m pushing and pulling, trynna make some waves in the pool
And my mother dearest never caught shit about fucking raising a fool
I’m complacent and cool – beaming at you with a wide-ass grin
You motherfuckers let the fire ants in
You should've kept your door closed
I walked in on you getting fucked like cheat fantasy pornos
I’m taking over your percentage of the domicile –
Promise my vomit will honestly profit, I’m volatile
Mad Chatter’s rattlin’ faster than crack ‘n Adderall
Or Ritalin sniffin’ ninjas with a quick mission
Bitch, I shatter y’all
I’ll make your ladder fall when you’re halfway to the top
This is me showing these MC’s a sign that says STOP
Chattertime
I stay alive with my wrists slit
Cause my blood is some thick shit
Since I pass up the big pigs for fatter swine
That blood is pure molten soul
All of the listeners know
That I’m a palatable rapperer of a radder kind
My rapid vernacular habit is spastic
You’re better dead than sweatin’ in bed
Spendin’ lead, pressin’ for better rhymes
I’ll make it wet where the sun don’t ever shine
Then knock ‘em up
Poppin’ straight off the cock like I was Fedderline
The current radio playlist is laced with
Tasteless fake shitstains and everybody’s wasted
The game is evil, makin’ demons outta people
So I scaled the steeple, screamin’ out
“is nothing fucking sacred?”
Everyone said I wouldn’t make it
They wouldn’t give me the time of day so I had to come and take it
I wouldn’t settle for the night
I pedaled toward the light
On levels sorta like
The Devil’s horde in flight
I’m apeshit
You’re basic, a one-trick dominatrix
And you wonder why the audience is always so vacant
Looking at you is killing me, does your face hurt?
Musical masochism’s got me going “what’s the safe word?”
I vent vivid verses vanquishing villainous vocalists
Forged from feral faculties foreshadowing focused fists
You’re bogus, bitch, I’m better than boobs and butt sex
Literally never learned the language of losing, what’s next?
I’m so pissed, it’s vexing;
Like locusts, unresting
I’m focused and besting
You slow kids
And notice
My flow’s quick like Nestle
With no kids but nesting
I’m so sick
There’s no fix
So go lick my testes
…just giving you some time to react to that
I’m flipping aerial rhymes, I’m an acrobat
I’m going crazy and that’s why I keep the chatter mad
And you don’t wanna be a part of the aftermath
You’ll be reduced to human soup in a plaster cast
Or splattered over my dagger holder like a gastric mass
Blasted out the back of a massive and gaseous ass
Pass the flask and sing the Spitshine Sonata, dude
Try not to pass out from the potent marijuana fumes
Countless people try to be different but never follow through
I plan to be the first of my kind like Phil Donahue
You crappers think you have it under wraps, but I’m onto you
And if you’re thinking what I’m thinking, you’re one of the honored few
East is the moniker, I’m here to drop a bomb or two
Cause everyone is off to Bonnaroo but all I wanna do is STOP
Chattertime
You peckerheads are comin’ rectal with your hecklin’
I’ll leave your face speckled with red freckles like splattered wine –
From the bloodspray, flattering I must say
Have a good day, though normally I would stay to fraternize
Your drastic actions had ya frag-blasted
Now you’re a spasmin’ basket of protoplasm with a shattered spine
But that aside, would you be my Valentine?
I’ll hold your heart still while your monitor achieves a flatter line
So suck my bladder dry, and I’ll be back, just as advertised