[Intro: Sample]
These are the secrets of a lost art. For the very first time we're going to show you Wizards and Warlocks of olden times

[Verse 1: Wildcard]
Telekinetics ain't strong enough to move me
Two tsunami's couldn't do me
Plus I'm prominently promising I'm ominous and moody
Like a comet when he's shooting, bombing on the run and cruising
With some hydroponic chronic marijuana in his hoopty
An anomaly abusing a conglomerate of groupies
Like piranhas now you honor with klonopin and roofies
And I'll dominate a booty like it's Monica Bellucci's
Make her pussy walls collapse, I'm Osama to the coochie
I’m Obama to this music, it’s too fucked to change now
Growing novocaine emotion flow and throwing flames out
Plus my voltage and velocity will blow your brains out
Just like Superman if he had came in Lois Lane's mouth
No one colder came to go through pain and soak up game now
Known to blow your frame, you broke a tank and cobra came out
Hope this music shit finally pays off and I make checks
Or I'm stuck in drug stores buying shit to make meth
Motherfucker

[Interlude]
Practitioners of Solomon's magic are not Satanists who make pacts with the Devil, they are spiritual explorers in the deep caverns of the mind

[Verse 2: Celph Titled]
Mind torture, make a House of Pain out your brain
And when the scalpel shave it's redder than a Falcon's game
Douse out the flames with turpentine I work for mine
Why I need a biscuit? This razor will murk you fine
Time to get nice, it feels right that I'm a boss
Autograph tracks with my signature flow (of course)
All I need is a 30-minute TV ad
Before and after pictures, naked bitches toking weed sacks
With the seat back in the Audi A8
My EPK is mean with PPK's and Dead Presidents face paint
The feds knock pictures but they throw the book at me
So I'm Sasquatch, see me get a good look at me (that's him!)
Your Commodore-64 raps are under process
I'm the W.O.P.R. mainframe from War Games here to play chess
Get gas, yeah the hunt is on
Twin shotty so don't need to know which side the pump is on

[Interlude]
These are the secrets of a lost art, by which Wizards and Warlocks of olden times evoked Holy Angels and evil lesser spirits

[Verse 3: Wildcard]
Bipolar, cold and hot, cold as Minnesota twat
Colder than a kid who took the safety off a loaded Glock
Rode a lot, globe I trot
Thinking 'bout the shows I rocked
Strange bitches all in my bed like fucking Goldilocks
No one's got shit on Dirty Version, I'm serious
I'm accustomed to custom and I say fuck just to hear the shit
And I'm crushing you fuckers and leave you stuck in delirium
Throw the towel in like we 'bout to fuck on her period

[Outro]
Oh! What the fuck! (I'm sorry!) that's my mom's favorite beach towel! (I didn't know) You gotta tell me when this shit is going on man it looks like I smashed a Jelly Roll in my face!