PUSSEYEDON
it is not blasphemous in fact it's miraculous conception
its the spawn of biznotch spout from her very own erection
its her heir her mane little man her Apple in her hand
princess bore herself a processor in the lab
Inspiration: legacy, in my arms for all to see
What kinda dynasty could ever be what could I leave? you ask
Of the essence of biznotch but from not her uterus or crotch
Forever kingdom shall maintain a forwards march!
around the clock in any spot nothing less than all I got
How seriously surreal a god, and healing a metaphor, a kid creation by means of a mix of physics, heart and soul
but I'd say this sans-cock concoction super radical
Super-me 2.0, my first lass personal,
Watch out ! Son of biznotch, destined for power trip, a tower
one day he'll be king keened in to every lip sour
Whip in shape my flap trap cause what I spit need to be checked
I shall name him Pusseyedon, ruler of the sound waves,
Pusseyedon, Son of Biznotch, in his name, from whence shoulda came
Instead of ocean spray this prince reigns upon a different range
Every ear his media, where his saving grace is waged
I'm taking over fate, pumping mythological weight,
I'm changing legends myth bustin up to date,
Triton by tradition, modern day stereo remote,
Mic controller, floor holder, captain of news anchor folks
PA system patroller, cursed word muffler, joke amplifier,
clarifier sworn in speaker, ceromonial master
Eyes on the vibes, propagator of the amplifier
the bass floor bump stopper and volume recognizer
sinusoidal kinda guy concerned not with your eyes
but what's upside your head, on either side,
Pusseyedon keep in mind what might your inner ear be feeling like
