Let this incessant beat command your head and stomp your feet
I got a few sleeves of expressive treats with sheets of sheepish bleats and hated defeats
I got the optimum to beat this cumbersome of music's pride and fun, these number one's that are made by scum
I define my motives as good for the world
But for all you know I could be rapping for the girls
I get my kicks from making people wonder if I'm genuine or fake
They have no sense if they have to ask whence I came
So here me now, tell me how, raise your brow and sing aloud
To this generations champion of masturbation while animating more violence than Martin Scorcese

(Chorus)
You heard of me, I'm Charles Manson on a killing spree
I went to jail for murdering rhymes, ain't nobody as ill as me
You heard of me, I knocked up that girl, I have a kid or three
I go to pregnancy meetings and flirt with wives over urbal tea

I'm on my third pen from writing this
My other two burst because I was writing too much words so the paper made an anger fist
This is just a draft of bliss, the full song was twenty pages full of my metaphorically genius gift
I'm a braniac that causes contamination to your ears
So you better let the words flow in, this is an examination to test your peers
Your parents worst nightmare, has came to bite them
You'll be playing this shit till I condemn you to open up your A.T.M to buy your litte brother the same C.D even though he's in elem
I'll be drinking a cold budweiser on my front porch
While you're buried alive, going insane, cause my rhyming scheme is too hard for you to understand, not even google can explain
I've been passed the torch, this unstopable force won't be stopped even though I kidnapped Lois Lane
Look, here's a break, a little chorus, sing the words, I know they're gorgeous

(Chorus)
You heard of me, I'm Charles Manson on a killing spree
I went to jail for murdering rhymes, ain't nobody as ill as me
You heard of me, I knocked up that girl, I have a kid or three
I go to pregnancy meetings and flirt with wives over urbal tea

Now, I know I'm bound to get all these sources opposing against me
Cause I'm just a resident in the rapping game and I'm seventeen so they'll test me
I'll get teased in magazines as the male Justin Bieber
Little twelve year old girls thinking they can get with me cause I'm a teenager
I guarantee you I'm more mature than most of these famous celebs you'll know
They waste their money on sneakers then get bankrupt, so they're broke
They listened to music their full life and dominated on the mic
But in school they missed lessons, losing brain cells and adolesence
What's the difference between me and every other artist?
What's the difference between Jesus and my neighbour, John? Who's the smartest?
Save your questions for newspapers and magazines
They'll write any bull shit to make some money from me
This is my song to y'all out there who need life back in music
Don't download this shit, buy it, borrow it, use it