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open mic nite, pt. 1 - viktor vaughn lyrics

[intro: willie b]
wow wow hey yeah alright man that was great bye get the f-ck out of here that was nice, cut his mic off thank you i am back i am your host little willie b representing the hood god dammit and a little fat n-gga who got money so f-ck you. up next we got the open mic poetry event, the fifteenth annual, sponsored by motherf-cking valentine, cross country clothing and a lot of wack sh-t that the hood will not wear anymore
we got my man up first his name is sambuca. give it up for sambuca y’all come on. the mic is here stupid, come here sambuca

[verse 1: benn grimm as brother sambuca]
this is the tone
the tone that i speak
the voice
the unheard voice of my people
black
white
people
purple
yellow
where do we stand
or does it matter
everyone we all, we all live the same pain of ignorance together
and all have been lost
and at the end we all need each other
and that is how it is
everything goes in a circle
so who are you to judge in whom’s who?
and who the h-ll is who?

[interlude: willie b]
yeah alright-right cut his mic off yeah yeah yeah that was nice brother. alright we got my man right here coming up on the microphone, his name is doctor moreau!

[verse 2: rodan as dr. moreau]
yo
inebriated, packin the tool
spin doc moreau
international svengali
two in the county – jackin a fool
vic, watch the sack
harr-ss sh-t, meet his doom
big character stays in home room, in the back of the school
cold war veteran
iron curtain over-the-wall defector
authentic aeronautic agility to avoid the enemy motion detectors
on the other side of fear is freedom
charismatic persona made conspicuous by his absence
spoke french fluently with a high-pitched german accent
sont les mots qui vont très bien ensemble
answer the pop reverence with plain slanguage
mix it with pig latin
push the sizzle my crizzle organic perfecters
kinda like ma$e and macy gray, soundin’ a little r-t-rded but still infectious
favorite pastime attacking the righteously impaired
attach his back to a lithium battery, juicin’ him up
keeping him fat between delusions of grandeur and his own feelings of inadequacy, it’s supposed
and proletariat hordes roll with more funny style brothers than the wayans
irresistible force; immovable object communicate with prophets and original natives
south american mayans
who utilize ancient secret ether breathing techniques to raise their ki like super saiyans
these trained guerrillas not found in the circus but every occupation from aviation to cocaine dealers
ascended from scriptures
biblical critically acclaimed thrillers
known to sniff codeine and send [?] to everything
stay addicted to pain k!llers
professional brain-stealers

[interlude: willie b]
aw sh-t you know its on. we got my man, get out the encyclopedia, his name is louis logic holla!

[verse 3: louis logic]
(yeah yeah check check yo)
i used to be a loudmouth
back before i turned into a loud jerk
crowd surfing into chicks with big t-ts mouth first
i been looking down shirts since i was young
prince of the drunk, swimming in drums of cinnamon rum
isn’t it fun when you p-ss on a bum
in a contest that isn’t supposed to elevate beyond threats?
y’all b-tches just come to measure d-cks?
f-ck all of that nonsense
i already got stoned, i’m getting sticks
if names don’t hurt you i may just murk you
slay the first dude out too late for curfew
and in case you heard lou’s a bad sport
you’ll get a crash course in getting your -ss kicked if you ask for it
how about a p-ssport to a nice little place
the landlord describes as a boot right in your face
f-ck the game, i won’t just smudge your name
i’ll feed you your own nuts today if you like bitter taste

- viktor vaughn lyrics

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