Text: Clutch. Pure Rock Fury. Careful With That Mic....

So tell me, when you took the practice scholastic aptitude test
Did you know the answers or did you just guess?
You rely on gimmicks to amuse your fans
And act all urban to jack-up your sound-scan.
What's the matter with you? How come you rhyme monosyllabically?
Is atrophy shrinking your entire vocabulary?
Your style's like garbage cans meant to be taken out on a weekly basis.
Ever since your first record you've been in a state of suspended animation.
You look like snuffaluffagus and australopithecus.
Me cray, you abacus.
But enough about you, let's talk about me
And how single-handedly i redefined the science of radio astronomy,
Making nobel prize winners question their notions of reality.
Oh, but i digress? you play sorry, i play chess.
King's pawn to b3, checkmate, go get some percasets.

Careful with that mic, weezy.
Do you really think it's that easy?

Mmmm? this is really good ice cream! You want some of it?
Oh, my bad i didn't know you were lactose intolerant.
Makes you pass gas, frightens all the girls away.
Only friends you keep are those you pay.
Always on the ready for the wack snack attack,
I carry sandwiches around in a straight-edge style jansport backpack.
Got the gadget q gave bond. Take control of your mind and make you jump in a pond,
Go "quack quack" and flap your arms, leave you confused, but completely unharmed.

Careful with that mic, weezy.
Do you really think it's that easy?
Do you really think it's true
That up above they can't hear you?

Now both you and i know that the past ten years have been rather intense.
I'm ashamed to admit that i've been fooled by the seductions of violence.
People walking around with ugly auras.
At times i'm even tempted to seek the advice of dr. Laura,
But i ignore her.

So i take a deep breath and count to ten,
Ain't gonna let it get under my skin.
Take a deep breath and count to ten.
Think of all the nice places that i been

Like back when i was waging peace against the visigoths,
I was tutored in the ancient mysteries by a wizened philosoph,
Learned the polyrhythm of celestial time,
And wait for the one to come and get it done to finish the rhyme.

Careful with that mic, weezy.
Do you really think it's that easy?
Do you really think it's true
That up above they can't hear you?