Professional Widowmaker from Humble & Brilliant by rap legend Jesse Dangerously

What up, troop? (WHAT UP!) I came with cut up loops, and you think you got me figured out?
“Shut up, stupid!” (SHUT UP!)
I shun MuchMusic, but I still apply for grants. You can't vilify how I soliloquize and rant! You take an ill-advised chance with scant hope of success; now, stare straight ahead with your hand over your chest and chant my name like you would utter a sworn oath. Your wits are just sharp enough for buttering warm toast!
Dude, my rhymes be funny with insults. Who outshines me? None of these dimbulbs! Just made-up gangsters like Sonny Corinthos! I'm in front of you, serenading under your windows! Layering breaks like I was marinating steaks; preparing to take the cake from you prevaricating fakes. Sorry for the food rhymes, I've barely ate in days; I'm picking up crumbs like you to try and shake and bake some chicken.

You Evian drinkers are naïve and backward, coming up with nothing like dry heaves. In fact, you're repeating on a regular rotation. I've been so patient and nice, but now I'm popping your flotation device. If I was you, I'd start taking advice - dissing you is just my way of breaking the ice! I ain't gonna bite, I'm fed up to the gills. You said I wasn't ill on the internet instead of busting skills.
Ironic isn't it? You ain't got a record out! You ain't a problem, just a microscopic speck of doubt! Check it out, y'all, I'm sinister like southpaws. Step into my office, 'cause I don't make house calls. Your mouth falls open, all hopin' forever wrecked. Kids get sick of you like Paul Hogan in retrospect.
Neglect to genuflect with genuine respect and get a menu to select a course of inhuman correction for ya!

Middle-class middle-American middle-schoolers muddle through their middle-life crises, just a little too disillusioned, and it's a losing battle when the Hoosiers tip the snoozing cattle. Who's your dad? I'll prove that it's true without using confusing data.
Uncontrolled variance sunk the old experiments. The lumpenproletarians want the whole experience. It's so embarrassing with no-one carrying the weight – I'd like to punch the guy my girlfriend married in the face!
Yeah, **** ******, it's heartbreaking, come on, you're killing me! For really though, time to start taking responsibility. Wasting all the sympathy you garnered in martyrdom. Pardon the mess, come on, restart and refresh! Forget bargaining or threats; you aren't getting support cheques any more than your wife is likely to start darkening your doorstep!
(I know it's harsh, but you should hear the threats he aimed against me.)
I'm not sorry, I'm Jesse Dangerously!

• Hip-Hop/Rap
• boom bap
• conscious hip-hop
• nerdcore hip-hop
• rap
• underground hip-hop
• Ottawa