Bitchslap - MC Hawking, MC Frontalot

Trash Talk

Doomsday, bring the funk

Oh, yah.

Yo.

Ah.

Check this shit out

Verse 1

I roll straight pimping to the room of my lecture

Prepared to enrapture students with a mixture

Of hard-ass science and smooth-ass rhymes

So phat you can’t fit in my class sometimes

I’m early.

Popping wheelies in the hall

Showing off the hydraulics to the hotties' enthrall

Of the Hawk.

And yo, who can blame them?

I only got one thing larger than my brainstem

One asks «How big are your rims?»

The answer’s in my lap, the girl hopped in.

I cruised on to my appointed destination

Dropped the hottie in the front row, said «Be patient»

Now I’m rolling the chair with the bass turned up

See a bitch T.A.

got my latte in a cup

I’m like «Fuck!

I said Mocha only!

I’ll smack you so hard your ghost will be lonely»

He says «No offense, Dr. H, but your keyboard

Challenges your dexterity, and I think more

Challenging still would be your rising to the occasion

Readying the back of your hand bend on swift administration»

Now I’m consumed by rage

I say I oughta bitchslap every last T.A.

He says «Yeah, you should.

Wish you could!

But the arms you got don’t extend that good.»

I just smile as if all is forgiven

But the glint in my eye be crazy as living

On time that’s been borrowed that I’ll soon collect

When I teach a hard lesson in Cause-And-Effect

Bitch thinks he’s only showing off for his peers

He’s a newbie T.A.

who does not know the fear

And respect that is due to the Hawk and his crew

But he’ll learn that and more by the time I’m through

He’ll get a…

Chorus

Bitchslap (Ow!)

Oh, snap

Punk motherfucker ain’t worth a cap

And his S-flap (Ugh!)

Proved that

No need for the gat

Or the baseball bat

Just a bitchslap (Ah!)

Oh, snap

Punk motherfucker ain’t worth a cap

And his S-flap (Ow!)

Proved that

How’d I ever get a bitch T.A.

like that?

Bitchslap.

Verse 2

Stayed up late that night, yo, very busy

Got shizzy to dizzy-dazzle in the labora-tizzy

Servos, motors, chains and gears

Mechanisms, the purpose of which is unclear

Got all I need, my brain and a screwdriver

The Hawk rocks inventing.

Fuck MacGyver!

I got in mind, a practical design

For a device to help keep T.A.'s in line

Next day, all is ready.

The punk is oblivious

No concept of how doomed he already is

Cup in hand, again the wrong flavor

I pause as he smirks so as I can savor

The moment, then I say

«Bitch, I said Mocha.

Now you get a slapping.»

T.A.

said «No, sir.

I don’t believe

that I’ll receive, one of those from you.

But if you posit otherwise, let’s see what you can do.

I was cool, made sure he understood

Then hit the button labeled «Extend that good»

With a whizz and a whir, unfolding from the chair

Came the robot arm shooting up into the air

Wound back with a click, then aimed at the bitch

Steel palm, chrome nickel on the backside switch

It connected with the T.A.'s head.

Velocity hi-yo!

Kinetic transfer to his pie-hole

His head snapped back, his neck went crack

He stood for a moment then his legs went flat

My other T.A.'s who’d been brimming when he spoke

Got a serious expression on their faces, so

I just rolled real slow on up to the lecture

The lesson today, the Hawk can wreck your

whole shit, so don’t test

Or I’ll put you on the list to get bitchslapped next

Chorus

Ah, yah.

MC Hawking kicking it with MC Frontalot

(Says yep.)

Let this be a lesson to all you punk bitches out there

The Hawk can wreck your whole shit, so don’t test.

A’ight.

We be geese.

Peace.