The Job Seeker

[Skit]
"So we still catchin' a drink after?
Alright, how many more have we got? We got one more?
What's his name?
His name's fucking Sheldon Elvin?
That's his name? His real name?
Alright, what is he, fucking twenty minutes late?
Fuck sake, alright send him in"

[Verse]
I'm outside the box and sound like a fox
Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Wow, I'm a boss
I bounce right across the crowd like lacrosse
You're found like a cross at Al-Qaeda's mosque
Get burnt down! Burnt to smithereens
I turn a river red with murks and limousines
Alert the mini-me's, I'm hurting women's knees
I'm spelling out death, but first I give 'em D
Titties bleed when my crew ride through
When they chop sticks, they ain't gotta chew Thai food
If you do die, what you gonna do, my dude?
Gonna tell God, we don't like dudes like you?
Haiku's in my tinned spaghetti, I'm Tinder ready
But I better keep my finger steady
'Cause if I swipe right now, she might think I'm petty
If we meet then she better give my sphincter heady
I'm the Yeti of the day, sayin' ain't see me
Just a myth with a dick and a great CD
If we ever do root then you'll maybe bleed
It's like watching Planet of the Apes 3D
(No!) You wouldn't remember though
Get hate mail 'cause I'm pushing the envelope
There's no way you can cushion the bender blow
Hook 'em so splendid it took 'em to Bendigo (Woo!)
When I woke, my hands were covered in blood
Damn it, fuck it, I'm fucked, man, I'm stuck in a rut
Might as well go jam my nut in a slut
Slam it, just slam till I jam it, stuck in her gut, yeah
What a romantic
My name's Ivan, wanna go camping?
Wanna throw prams in a Bottle-O's can bin?
Wanna mix death with erotic slow dancing?
I'm a man of mystery
At the zoo with a random chick with me
Damn it, Tiffany, hand them bricks to me
Bitch, I just wanna make pandas history
If I need to go to court
I'll go in a robe and sport my yoga shorts
And snort coke off some homeless whores I only bought
To show support 'cause I broke the law and groped a Porsche
Yeah, the Trojan horse is back
Ready to explode its sauce on a frozen corpse
I'm the type that you won't divorce
You're all over me like my scrotum warts—well, I hope they're warts!
I don't know no more, I get these rage fits
And wake up in a place full of rape kits
I hate kids, hate puppies and hate fish
I hate happiness, hate rappers and hate this