MC Paul Barman Follow

Countless styles drip on 12,000 miles a trip
Told him take the wheel and wheels of steel
Some nights just don't feel for real
Printed page took a beating. Not a stage reading
Staved off the ancients and Stone Age's fleeting
[Feel paper man sink tannery?] clamoring fans
Cameras in hand like I got mammary glands.
Bless the mic so genuflect
If whole place put hands up, then you wreck!
Another day another tabernacle
'Bout to go Pop up Snap against sides Crackle-able
Can't see me like a rock in tall grass
New millennium records are all ass
I sign titties, lps, arms and hall passes
You want to trace it as a tattoo? Fine
You are a piece of work, but you are not mine
Face it: I'm the truth
Old ladies waste their whole lives saying youth is wasted on the youth
'And I should have your hair.'
'Why? To look like youth? All day at the salon just to come out blue?'
Like the toilet. Aren't you annoyed yet?
King be crowned for down with vets, pounds for poids net
Flavor. You can taste it on the tongue
It's old folks problems that're wasted on the young
Which came first: the chicken or egg?
Man made God, ain't that a kick in the head?
Allahu akbar. Paul, the new rock star.

[Sample]
Even in the early morning, it gives a little light
And as the day goes on, it gets brighter and brighter
I didn't know that
Neither did I!

Teens loom between the stage and the green room
Girl friend recommended asking him out
For a first date, meet with ass to mouth. Gas in couch
I want to ride her grapes by the drapes in fresh air
And check out the cityscape from fire escapes
Get down in a booth and pretend it's a crowd where a futon sound proof
No such thing as a bit part (except for the chicken that hit the spit guard)
Don't get me started. I'm flattered when I'm carded
Predisposed to happiness when retarded and I'm in hot pursuit
I got the boot from a Grammy winner. Not as cute
I take more shorts than a panty raid
Born rhymer; can't be made
Emulsion got a green tint
You should see pregnant women screenprint

I don't deal in headshots unless there's suppressed photos of dead tots
MCs caught unawares that I'm shining out with some of theirs
Put your wands in the airs!
Not-guns are fun. Put up your pointer fingers, even joiners
Ringers from the Feds for the phrase-coiner/singer.

I make the headliner go, "I can't go on after that!"
I laugh at rap. Okay's not good, it's half as whack
I'm a hermit crab and I'll find your open mind habits until you feel better
Depress your fucks up your appestat
All you in the back call anew to react
If you can't find the front let me draw you a map
For all those who order sparkling water:
Your world is darkening; prepare for mass slaughter

I was once a perky nude
At worst was rude
Work in the nude
Won't work for food
Case the joint

Every face on coin's bent back is way past their breaking point
Write rhymes on marriage license
Rock France with laryngitis and no DJ
Fuck what he say
In Montreal they put raunchy Paul on replay
It's M-C-P-A-U-L you thought you knew well
It gets better every record in case you can't tell
I've been effed, bereft, and faced death. Tell me what's left
I'm an eighth grade taped on escape to the sunshine of a golden shower
Took a toke of smoke that blew through Okinawa
Born alone, die alone. Adopt stopped ribosome
Work for a jerk, get ahead, and provide a home
Back off before I tear a track off reels and rhyme skin black off
I'm in a state of grace.
A great many days ago, he says "he's tellin' the truth. He kept a straight face."
Think for yourself

Most people lie and truth-tellers are long
My hands went propeller. I took off in this song.
It's too long to be honest
I make my Top 1 list like US dominance. I'm gone