Thursday, May 22, 2008

A'ight, let me show you what time it is...

I bring it hardcore - like a Flandrian
you tourin dem parks while I Ronde von Vlaanderen
Rain? It slide off my back like a duck, with ease - while you take yo shiverin a$$ in for a snack at Chuck E. Cheese
If you're gonna take the mic - do it for real, girl, PLEASE
else I'm gonna have to graffiti your saddle with these (

You still back near the startin line, fumbling wit'cho Oakley Thump
while the podium girls bring my gold medal to the massage room, where we do the humpty-hump
and I ain't talkin no Digital Underground - punks may as well be eatin nilla wafers and ground round
while this street-savvy veteran do laps around yo broke-a$$ town

You think you a candidate in this race? You been watchin too much Barack Obama, ace
'cept I think The Rock and yo mama spawned theyselves a love child and gave you a free bike from Race Pace
Bianchi, Guerciotti, Bottecchia, Pinarello
I'll say hasta to all that pasta for a Merckx in red, black and yellow...

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