[Verse 1:]
(What's your name?) Marshall
(Who's your daddy?) I don't have one
My mother reproduced like the Komodo Dragon
And had me on the back of a motorcycle
Then crashed in the side of locomotive with rap, I'm loco
It's like handing a psycho a loaded handgun
Michelangelo with a paint gun in a tantrum
About to explode all over the canvas
Back with the Yoda of rap in a spasm
(Your music usually has them)
(But waned for the game your enthusiasm it hasn't)
(Follow you must, Rick Rubin my little Padawan)
A Jedi in training, colossal brain and, thoughts of entertaining
But docile and impossible to explain and, I'm also vain and
Probably find a way to complain about a Picasso painting
Puke Skywalker, but sound like Chewbacca when I talk
Full of such blind rage I need a seeing eye dog
Can't even find the page, I was writing this rhyme on, (oh..)
Its on a rampage, couldn't see what I wrote I write small
(It says) Ever since I drove a 79 Lincoln with white walls
Had a fire in my heart, and a dire desire to aspire, to DIE HARD
So as long as I'm on the clock punching this time card
Hip hop ain't dying on my watch
[Hook:]
But sometimes, when I'm sleeping, she comes to me in my dreams
Is she taken? Is she mine? Don't got, I don't care, don't have two shits to give
Let me take you by the hand, to promise land, and threaten everyone
'Cause there's no rhyme or no reason for nothing
[Bridge:]
Nah, (What's your name?) Marshall
(Who's your daddy?) I don't know him, but I wonder
(Is he rich like me?) Ha ha
(Has he taken, any time, to show you what you need to live?)
NO
[Verse 2:]
If he had, he wouldn't have ended up in these rhymes on my pad
I wouldn't be so mad, my attitude wouldn't be so bad, yeah, dad
I'm the epitome and the prime example of what happens
When the power of the rhyme falls into the wrong hands, and
Makes you want to get up and start dancing
Even if it is Charles Manson who just happens, to be rapping
Blue lights flashing, laughing all the way to the bank
Lamping in my K-Mart mansion, I'm in the style department
With a pile in my cart, ripping the aisle apart
With great power comes absolutely no responsibility, for content
