“Edward Cocaine,” by Professor Rex
They call me Edward Cocaine
I'm dropping bricks that are sick that make you wish you could be like me
See like me, but you can't, you better flee, you're like a flea
And I'ma squash you like a kid stomps ants
Like JLo smashes pants
Like Donald Glover rocked Camp
Like my uncle loved my aunt
Like the South hated Grant
Like little Ricky Schroeder looked up to the Champ
Like the everlasting hip hop flow on my winamp
Like PMS gives you the cramps
Like BMX riders fly off of ramps
Like teenagers wanna kiss sparkly vamps
Like sorority girls spend time under heat lamps getting tanned
Like Bleethy women gotta have tramp stamps
Like hungry kids gotta have food stamps
Like UPS and Fed Ex are trying to kill postage stamps
Like W's Congress was a rubber stamp
Like scribing these verbals gives me writer's cramp
Like Ringo Starr would be unfamous without his band
Like the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn gets banned
Like Campbell's soup and Trump contestants get canned
Like She's the Sheriff and Manimal used to get panned
Like a waitress meeting Tiger Woods gets damp
Like my soul after that last line is damned
Like Critique of Pure Reason Immanual Kant
Like a dog around Michal Vick is so quiet you can't hear it pant
Like Sticky Fingaz and Fredro get slammed
Like Phish fans sit through long-ass jams
Like Eric Dickerson tacklers got rammed
Like Cliff's Notes get crammed the night before the exam
Like ASAP Rocky and Mac Miller get Clams
Like Andre the Giant had problems with his damned pituitary gland
Like when Libertarians look at economics and misunderstand
Like when Stephen King was killing trees making a Stand
Like putting your hand on the Bible leads to the witness stand
Like Penn and Teller got sleight of hand
Like guys that whack off too much don't have to worry about cancer of the prostate gland
Like LeBron went to Miami and found the promised land
Like Edward Norton overplaying his Rounders poker hand
Like Orange is the New Black, a no man's land
Like Jimmy Hoffa getting buried in the Meadowlands
Like Ray Charles liked to tickle a Baby Grand
Like Hebrews taking a pilgrimage to the Holy Land
Like Deep Space Nine a runabout on the Rio Grande
Like bukkake actresses are outmanned
Like my weed source needs cash in hand
Like my very existence, from my parents point of view, was unplanned
Like Patrick Ewing had to always be thinking about his sweat glands
Like the wind a house of cards can't withstand
Like the Tea Party needs to disband
Like Deadliest Catch sailors get excited by the sight of dry land
Like Buddy Holly fans don't want to hear the phrase "crash land"
Like the Pointer Sisters want a slow hand
Like Ella Fitzgerald needed a big band
Like British commuters going to Fleet Street take the Strand
Like heads blow up when they get scanned
Like Jimi Hendrix made bold castles out of sand
Like Nickelback fans like shit that is bland
Like the English language is at my command
Like how I can tell this song is over by looking at the little hand