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letra de theurgy - the walkman

[verse 1: the walkman]

i practice magic
these rapper poetasters practice sucking phallus
i could craft these raps until my hand is callous
in fact, it’s practically habit
i could tap out a rap on a tablet
sew scr-ps to the back of my jacket
in the pattern of a rhyme
and then turn around and rap it
i’m magic
and you’re average trash, just jack sh-t, whack sh-t, b-st-rd
but why so serious?
seriously, i am not this furious
i’m just a little p-ssed how you act once
you insist that you won’t get packed in my sack lunch
but you shouldn’t be oh so sure
you shouldn’t feel so secure
’cause i can slip through straight jackets like i was covered in vegetable oil
i easily weave my way through incomprehensible coils
i can read your mind
i have mastered hypnosis
and i don’t know if you noticed
but i f-ck with this hokus pokus
theurgy

[verse 2: the walkman]

my spell book is a dictionary
and i can’t tell if that’s funny or not
i am a missionary
but b-tches don’t toss me the box a lot
i knock beats right out of the parking lot
when i start to stock up my magical tricks
you suck like a bag full of d-cks
you ingrate, inbred ape, and b-tch
i mumble an incantation
i give a fl!ck of the wrist
i would take the sk!ll right out of you but it doesn’t exist
f-ck your stupid disc
i got the gist in a minute
it’s premise is easy to mimic
your sh-t is a gimmick and nearing it’s limit
you should either be tutored or neutered
hip hop needs a suitable suitor
and i am the dude of the future
you’re not even suited to use a computer
but that hardly seems to matter
as you will become a cadaver
when i make your career disappear like
abra f-cking kadabra
theurgy

- the walkman

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