Capital Dumb - Lee Scott, Illinformed

I keep it frozen butter soft

Stop rappin' and up your game in the art of fuckin' off

And when you’ve gone, I’ll lift me jug of

Quaff too much and cough

Then blaze a sack and take a nap

I don’t even leave the pad unless I’m gettin' paid to rap

Big dog, frying bacon, As-Salaam-Alaikum

Naysayers try and break him

Unaware Dr Scott rhymes with Satan

Well no it doesn’t but I’m stompin' through your village on a llama with your

Ma Dukes

Who let that from Blah loose with pyah juice?

Like Bishop with a Tropicana, alls these bitches want is drama

Luke, I am not your father

The cash accumulates while I’m steady killin' it at funeral pace

But don’t be fooled to move and lose your place

Charmed by the mutants human traits

Walk into the light, the newer you awaits

Same look, different caption

If you didn’t take a picture for Facebook, it didn’t happen

Now play somethin' while I BASE jump into a shallow bath

I hear destruction’s at the bottom of this narrow path

That’s the sound of their feet talkin', (keep walkin')

A tadpole swims into a supermassive black hole

An old man takes his last stroll, and he’s done

Argyreia nervosa, it’s gettin' colder

Rockin' back and forth until the Earth’s closer to the sun

Tippin' a toaster for a crumb

Writin' depressive poetry for fun

Glum with a smile

Their answer to everything is sendin' in a soldier with a gun

Dumb