I take your rhyme pad rip the shit in half
then I put it back together better than you ever have
I deconstruct and reconstruct your feeble sentences
build 'em up strong and fortify with lots of messages

I'm telling stories that I pulled from out your scrap heap
you're in the shallow end I'm swimming where the rap's deep
there wasn't much to salvage just a bunch of junk parts
I Frankensteined 'em into something that could pump hearts

I gave them life and fresh blood from parts I wasn't usin'
your deflated words resuscitated with a transfusion
I'm cuttin' letters up and paste 'em like a ransom note
it's looking really good and
sounds like something someone handsome wrote

the only thing is that I'm not looking to get something from you
cos everything I need I have already yeah you know it's true
in fact I got some things to spare and so I'm here to share 'em
your rhymes are broken but I think that I can still repair 'em

your spoken word is just simply disastrous
which ceremony did you say you were the master of?

you wrote a book that I could never read a chapter of
there is no ceremony you could be the master of

you must have MisConstrued the meaning of MC
MisCalculated the import of what it means to be
the Mic Controller and the one who Must Communicate
the Message Clearly anywhere the Masses Congregate

you got a job to do but you can never seem to do it
peanut butter and molasses sandwich I don't want to chew it
I spit it out and in the process form another verse
your rhymes are doodoo I use voodoo just to lift the curse

call me the medicine man cos I'm relieving pain
your fans all come in crazy I'll have 'em leaving sane
don't need a certified MD when you got an MC
who can bring the remedy like Mod V

I got the antidote in fact I got the panacea
I'll cure what ails you if it fails to man there has to be a
problem with your system on a constitutional level
you get confused and put the details all up in the devil

you're having trouble seeing things with positivity
your mental health reflects your physical proclivity
to fall apart and get infected by the weakest strain
you stood in line at minds R us and bought the cheapest brain

you choke on lyrics till you die and give the Casper up
which ceremony did you say you were the master of?

I hope the spirits break the spell you are the caster of
there is no ceremony you could be the master of

let's set the record straight there is no one right way to be
but there's a wrong one and of course you found it naturally
this doesn't mean you have to wallow in your present state
there's still tomorrow or right now no need to hesitate

just put the microphone down and exit stage left
and leave your notebook cos i see there's one more page left
it's just enough for me to write a fitting eulogy
here lies MC What's His Name aka Who Was He

don't even have the type of face a mother has to love
there is no ceremony you could be the master of