Rippin like Jack high off a lungful of crack/
Aiming for the front door, got sent round the back/
Paedophiliac, said he fancied a snack/
When he ate a five year olds pussy, in his plan of attack/
She told you it hurt, like a nun up the skirt/
Getting down in a hurse with the vicar of St Andrews Church/
Pope stares on with a camera, a bag of viagra/
Clutched in his hand like Tony Blair propoganda/
The President bought a deal, said he was keepin it real/
Bobbing his head to Hip Hop, doing whatever he feel/
Increasing the skill, like Mother Teresa armed with a weapon to kill/
Sent down to the desert, and still caught a chill/
More pain than a brain tumour, i spit toilet humour/
Wash my mouth out with soap, see the eastsiders riding/
Up in the west coast, swore i saw Tupacs ghost/
Don't wanna boast, but i'll put you in my rap oven/
I'll rhyme, watch you roast.......