Basey Bat Rap - Lee Scott, Illinformed, Broom Man

Your idle idol

Staring at the spinning spiral of a gentle giant vinyl

Strange ways since his sunny runny days

I don’t think he’s gonna change, replace the phrase it’s just a phase

I lost me chain at a party, when I left it on the side drunk

Around the same time I first tried skunk

Just leave him to his oversized Ellesse clothes

As long as he’s got eleven fingers and as many toes

That’s all that matters plus that shit’ll fit him when he grows

And charge the rap game later for any debt he owes

Skipping several episodes, we can see our hero grown up

Frying chicken embryos

I used to wanna fly away cause me caseys flat

And to the kids picking on us, I’ve got a basey bat

Depressed in the Winter, in need of sun rays

Plus I learned to blag bizzies at a young age

My sincerest Appy Polly Loggies

But I don’t wanna here your happy oggy oggys

A quiet shy unless you knew him type of guy

From watching BraveStarr to puffing stuff like HR

The greenest bud no longer mattered when he seen the blood

Others are oblivious like who’s this Ebeneezer Goode

Nine to five weekend warriors drinking booze

The choice is yours but you’ve only got this to choose

Stuck within the confines of your paradigm

I don’t wanna stand in line

Smelling like the chemical concoctions of Calvin Klein

So poor Palestine

More doper than white phosphorous

I’m on the steel like severed arm colossus

The fucking super looper sample anguish challenger

Crooked desirer, hire me to hassle any character

I, I, I see through your pigskin

Catch me throwing bottles at the act stupid kingpin

Bump a hoe, take the (?)

The maximum, the hand that fed the five thousand

Fat lier, fat knower, truth finder

Always speak in code word

No bonus ropes, the hand feeds the homeless to goesa

Best believe if I ain’t top ten then bitch I’m eleven

The elder god, the mic sections is on my TV

Told her I woulda smashed in 99 hit up

But I was fourteen still learning how to skin up, proper

Possibly the truest shit I’ve lied about

The big ego, Dario, Tarantinio

You best believe that if I release it then it’s dope

Free tickets to the hopeless show, bring your own ammo

Get shrunk like Zielinksi, the double jumping air touching foot plant

You missed slag, pisstakers ahh well

Fuck Fred Phelps and all them as well

The resistance won’t be played on your radio hoe

Silly come and go, don’t fuck with no fake

But if I do and find out, get crashed out my database straight

I’m either nice or weird acting spear fashion

I hate humans, send a fuck you to Parliament

Sugar coated candy drugs, don’t eat the brown acid

Shout the Ralph garment, peace to George Carlin