Anyone Can Rap

The new season of Comedy Central Presents is coming up. One of the performers is a young gentleman named Bo Yo who has gone from posting raps on youtube to his own special in less than 6 months. Am I jealous? Of course I'm fucking jealous. My only solace comes from knowing he's a flare-up. Hell, anyone can rap. It's not like a skill or anything...

Aint it scary
How any idiot
Can lift
A rhyming dictionary
And spin two words
That you never heard
Like when
I’m fucking a bitch
And I get the itch
To stick it in her hitch
Completely undeterred?
Break her ass cherry
Though I aint no fairy
On the contrary
I’m revolutionary!
Spread her bubble
On the double
She’s in trouble
I see her moon
With my foot long Hubble
In and out
Rhythm and flow
Nowhere to go
I’ll fuck your head up
And the status quo
Yo bro, Sloppy Joe
Didn’t you know?
I’m fucking incredible
Your rhymes are deplorable
My beats are unstoppable
But you know what’s impossible?
Missionary

Anyone can rap
Any lass, any chap
And if you can talk
And if you can clap
Then you can tap
Into all the crap
That white people love
That’s where
The money’s at

Now listen to me
Real closely
And you will agree
Step 1 is easy
Say things Blacks say
Like heezy fo’ sheezy
I know you’re whiter
Than Patrick Swayze
You ain’t NWA
You’re cheesy and gay
See…
I can make this ironic
But look how moronic
I look
When I talk about
The shit I smoke
(It’s fucking chronic)
Or my big fat dick
And the bitches on it
But let’s face it
My sex is platonic
This rap is sardonic
I ain’t no rapper
Who’s a thug and demonic
Hennessy?
Gin and juice?
Nigga I get drunk
Off gin and tonic
But there’s no excuse
For this duce I produce
Or my substance abuse
I don’t live hard
Or hang loose
In a noose I’ve made
For the common good
I’m no recluse
I’m well understood
My suburban hood
Is called Mt. Spruce

Anyone can rap
Any lass, any chap
And if you can talk
And if you can clap
Then you can tap
Into all the crap
That white people love
That’s where
The money’s at

To win this game
Step 2’s your name
It’s your claim to flame
Where you place the blame
For all your shame
And what you became
From hood rat
To street dictator
But don’t be lame
Once a simple hater
A lonely masturbator
But greater the time
You put in your crime
Busting coppers
And rolling dimes
The more chime and rhyme
You get
In this life of grime
See what I did?
That almost sounded
For real
What’s ideal to rap
About straps, and traps
The bitches you slap
The busters you cap
And all that peril;
Shocking the flocks
Who come to mock
When you grab your dick
And then moon walk
Glocks, lock stock
And two smoking barrels
Oh no fo sho
Don’t you know
How sick this shit is
Pissed off anglo?
Chill man, don’t irk
You still down
With all the Bros
But I gotta smirk
Since I wrote this beat
While at work
(Office Depot, woah)

Anyone can rap
Any lass, any chap
And if you can talk
And if you can clap
Then you can tap
Into all the crap
That white people love
That’s where
The money’s at

It’s the last verse
I’ll heed the call
And go balls to the wall
I’ll fucking yell
And I’ll fucking curse
I’m the best
And you’re the worst
In this contest
I’m way in first
Victory lap dance
In the players harem
No need to share ‘em
The pussy knows
Who’s dick
Will tear ‘em
I’m King Shit
And I’m here to brawl
On hands and knees
You will crawl
Fuck all yall
I win with ease
You better please
My dick’s getting off
If you’re a bitch
With a pussy or mouth
I don’t care which
Either way
You’re gonna bleed

Anyone can rap
Any lass, any chap
And if you can talk
And if you can clap
Then you can tap
Into all the crap
That white people love
That’s where
The money’s at

(it needs work, but not bad for a few hours of writting/actually doing work at my job)