I pity the fool who tries to step to Clubber Lang
Call me BA biceps cause I’ll crush your whole gang
Bring Tuesday, Friday and little trolly the train and watch me dip their @ss in gold
And wear em like my neck chain – SUCKA!
I’ll choke Du with your own sweater sleeves
Du couldn’t even beat me in the land of make believe. PUNK!
I will Mr. T bag you, in the closest cemetery
Nobody’s gonna miss Du cause all your Friends imaginary
["Mister Rogers"]
Hi there neighbor
I hope Du don’t mind if I change my shoes
I’ll be rocking sneakers till this battle’s over so I don’t get blood from your ugly face on my penny loafers. I like Du just the way Du are, one in a million, but it looks like the barber gave your head a brazillian. I pity your neck, Mr. Gold chains. You’ve got too many, the only Gold I keep is on the shelf in my Emmys. I teach the whole world full of children. I can tell Du call yourself T cause you’re too dumb to spell.
[Mr. T - DeStorm]
Who Du calling dumb fool?
Mr T. only needs one letter
Hello? It’s for you
Bill Cosby wants his sweater
You’re a 40 Jahr old virgin in a dumpy @ss house
I’ll get Hannibal, Murdoch and Face to stomp Du out
The only pussy cat Du ever seen is on Henrietta, SUCKA!
And your Mr. McFeely, delivers a lot Mehr than letters
So before Du come to battle with your PBS crap
How bout I call up CPS about them kids on your lap, FOOL!
["Mister Rogers"]
Watch what Du say. Kids Liebe me Mehr than lunch. I’m not the one with my face on some whack @ss Captain Crunch (Mr. T Sticker Inside) When my plan comes together Du won’t even see it coming. I’ll chop Du into four black dudes and I’ll remake Cool Runnings. I’ll say this once, Laurence. I hope it’s understood, get right back in your transporter, van and get the f&ck outta my neighborhood.
Call me BA biceps cause I’ll crush your whole gang
Bring Tuesday, Friday and little trolly the train and watch me dip their @ss in gold
And wear em like my neck chain – SUCKA!
I’ll choke Du with your own sweater sleeves
Du couldn’t even beat me in the land of make believe. PUNK!
I will Mr. T bag you, in the closest cemetery
Nobody’s gonna miss Du cause all your Friends imaginary
["Mister Rogers"]
Hi there neighbor
I hope Du don’t mind if I change my shoes
I’ll be rocking sneakers till this battle’s over so I don’t get blood from your ugly face on my penny loafers. I like Du just the way Du are, one in a million, but it looks like the barber gave your head a brazillian. I pity your neck, Mr. Gold chains. You’ve got too many, the only Gold I keep is on the shelf in my Emmys. I teach the whole world full of children. I can tell Du call yourself T cause you’re too dumb to spell.
[Mr. T - DeStorm]
Who Du calling dumb fool?
Mr T. only needs one letter
Hello? It’s for you
Bill Cosby wants his sweater
You’re a 40 Jahr old virgin in a dumpy @ss house
I’ll get Hannibal, Murdoch and Face to stomp Du out
The only pussy cat Du ever seen is on Henrietta, SUCKA!
And your Mr. McFeely, delivers a lot Mehr than letters
So before Du come to battle with your PBS crap
How bout I call up CPS about them kids on your lap, FOOL!
["Mister Rogers"]
Watch what Du say. Kids Liebe me Mehr than lunch. I’m not the one with my face on some whack @ss Captain Crunch (Mr. T Sticker Inside) When my plan comes together Du won’t even see it coming. I’ll chop Du into four black dudes and I’ll remake Cool Runnings. I’ll say this once, Laurence. I hope it’s understood, get right back in your transporter, van and get the f&ck outta my neighborhood.