歌词
[Verse 1]
I'm the tale that's told in rhythm, pounding through the ages,
Cookin' up hooks with chefs, stirring lyrical pages.
In the groove's hidden nook, I plant bars like gold,
Each syllable a treasure, in my stories bold.
Hop and skip, my flow defies the norm,
Philosophical puzzles, in each lyrical storm.
With a doctorate in hip-hop, Bugs Bunny's no match,
Kingpin of Easter beats, dealin' lyrical dispatch.
[Hook]
I leap through hip-hop's maze, a nonstop flight,
As the beatbox drops, I dance in the night.
Mixing elixirs, whisking whiskers, plot's twistin' spree,
In the rhythm's carrot chase, I'm the sicker spree.
[Verse 2]
Check my basket, overflowing with words unbounded,
Stretching the fabric of sound, each verse astounded.
A magical habit, no room for static cling,
Dynamic and bombastic, to the classics I sing.
A lyrical hare, bounding through verse's plains,
Easter eggs in your mind, where imagination reigns.
Leading in language's charge, syntax's tank,
With Peter and Dancer, in lyrical thanks.
[Bridge]
I paint eggs with imagination's vibrant brush,
Each color, a new flow, a lyrical hush.
Rebel of the rabbits, fascination's delight,
Cranking out verses, hip-hop's guiding light.
[Verse 3]
Aesop of the turntable, spinnin
[Verse 1]
I'm the tale that's told in rhythm, pounding through the ages,
Cookin' up hooks with chefs, stirring lyrical pages.
In the groove's hidden nook, I plant bars like gold,
Each syllable a treasure, in my stories bold.
Hop and skip, my flow defies the norm,
Philosophical puzzles, in each lyrical storm.
With a doctorate in hip-hop, Bugs Bunny's no match,
Kingpin of Easter beats, dealin' lyrical dispatch.
[Hook]
I leap through hip-hop's maze, a nonstop flight,
As the beatbox drops, I dance in the night.
Mixing elixirs, whisking whiskers, plot's twistin' spree,
In the rhythm's carrot chase, I'm the sicker spree.
[Verse 2]
Check my basket, overflowing with words unbounded,
Stretching the fabric of sound, each verse astounded.
A magical habit, no room for static cling,
Dynamic and bombastic, to the classics I sing.
A lyrical hare, bounding through verse's plains,
Easter eggs in your mind, where imagination reigns.
Leading in language's charge, syntax's tank,
With Peter and Dancer, in lyrical thanks.
[Bridge]
I paint eggs with imagination's vibrant brush,
Each color, a new flow, a lyrical hush.
Rebel of the rabbits, fascination's delight,
Cranking out verses, hip-hop's guiding light.
[Verse 3]
Aesop of the turntable, spinnin
