Because most philosophies that frown on reproduction don't survive.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Death of a Fruitcake

This is for my brother, who told me he once was bested in a battle-rapping contest:



h/t Teeny Manolo

Lyrics in the combox.
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2 comments:

mrsdarwin said...

Here are the lyrics. I didn't want to spoil the viewing experience for anyone.

Listen up fruitcake, I got a question.
How many times have you changed possession?
A million sixty-three, I ain’t counting mine?
The only way I’ll cut you is with this dope rhyme.
The only way I’ll eat you is behind the mic.
I think you’re the inspiration for a hunger strike.

Cuz when it comes to the lyrics I got the crazy ill power
to obliterate ya, scratch that, DEVOUR!
Nobody want to eat you cuz you’re just too stale,
now do me a favour and get lost in the mail.

(sound of crickets chirping)

Well they call you a dessert, yes they use that term loosely.
A punch couldn’t dent ya, not even from Bruce Lee.
Talk to a spongecake for some inspiration
on how to be consumed without heavy mastication,
cuz you taste like dirt and you’re hard as slate.
You ain’t dessert, fruitcake, you’re a paperweight.

(sound of crickets chirping)

A knife and a fork? I’ll take a hammer and a chisel
to your taste like a brick,
for shizzle.

Cuz you’re old, you’re crusty,
you ain’t exactly tender.
The only option for a fruitcake
is return it to the sender!

12/17/2007 3:41 PM
Literacy-chic said...

I love fruitcake. :( But my standards are tough. The only fruitcakes that come close to beating my grandmother's recipe are made by Cistercian monks:
http://monasteryfruitcake.org/

However, I was amused by the lyrics! ;)

12/19/2007 12:39 AM

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