Putting It Down

A thug mean solid like a submarine proud of my torpedoes
But in order to launch one had to beat a off a cloud of mosquitoes
Experience motion galore on the ocean floor a whale
Of a job and the fish scales are odd see a mermaid female
Underwater my ship navigated and my script dilapidated
Like rotten wood picked cotton good this crap educated
Being thug alive and mean is like to subscribe for a magazine
And this brother is yet to be on cover of JET in a dew rag green
Rapping script but as captain of ship stay fit for a crown
Make legit rounds in my vessel no life reserves for nitwit clowns
Use the process of intimidation pass on knowledge
Like the cold and bold administration of a college
Afraid of the professor “what are my grades for this semester”?
“Well MADD you flunked”, just cake in the mix the date
Were fixed to my exam that night assumed a cup of gin late
With one gulp my friend great tasting and less filling
Stress was thrilling me