>VIKITAHN

“Viki-tiki-tahn”
Sometimes I think I try to say too much
Tryin’ so damn hard to squeeze so many rhymes, into one line
YYR, kinda like that, aw shucks.
Shrugs, when asked, “What it’s all about, bubb?”
Everybody wants me to listen to rap non-stop
But I be like Ebenezer Scrooge, “Bah hum-bug!”
Got better things to do than to listen to them mugs
Who walk around on Mother Earth like a Persian rug

[Shot]
Take a chill pill kid, listen to VIKITAHN,
I shall live my life alone, that’s my stance
Hypothetically, I’m faced with a difficult decision
I got make a tough call every now and then
You think I’ll say to save the human? Guess again
I could care less man, just save my pad and pen

“The Wiz Kat, out.”
 
>V. Scriller

“V.-killer-Scriller,”
Life is hard, there ain’t no doubt about that
I gotta couple things to say to sum up the crap
I guess I’ll pen ‘em in until I make the Bejamins
Oh so similar to the “Fake It Till You Make It” plaque
[Rocket sounds] I’ll be holdin’ my breathe [exaggerated draw/inhale]
[Exhales] patiently waitin’ with bated breathe until you make it back
Sort of like claims, yah make ‘em until you stake ‘em
Sorta like leaves, mom complains until you rake ‘em

[Shot]
In case of an emergency, you’d better not be stayin’ in
Break the glass, check the meter, then pull the pin
Find the closest exit, I’ll meet you there in ten
Will we make it out alive? Well that all depends
If you’re all prepped we’ll step into the din
Amongst all the noise, I hold close my pad and pen.

“The Sure Shot, out”
 
>VICEROY

“Vice-ice-roy”
Aye aye aye aye aye baby what it is?
VICEROY has never been an explicit kid
Speak the sort of stuff, that make you wanna get with
Us. Writing Wrongs, whilst we write songs, miss
Sophisticate got me rather distracted,
To the stage, that I am remiss
So unlike the musicians that hit the spliff
We assimilate nothing into our collective abyss

[Shot]
Let us go out, and let’s have some fun
Let us frolic in the woods, let’s be as one
You think I’m pleasant wait until you meet my son
Sabre slick shades grace my face, done, like
“I [still] Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” to the bun
Like I love you, but I’m in love with my pad and pen, hun

“The Real Deal out.” 

>Vicky B.

“Vicky-freakin’-B.”
All up on them roof tops sellin’
In your moms’ rooms yelling
Jelly fish up in my socks, “I gellin’ like Magellan”
YYR sonny, wield a blaster pistol like I’m Han in
Five whole days, the lawdies couldn’t catch ‘em in
Five whole ways Vicky B. a gentleman
[laughs obnoxiously] if you buy that
Yooouu might deserve my sentiments

[Shot]
Ya-ah-eh-er, that’s what I’m talkin’ bout
Kid was poppin’ off in my face, in doubt
Kid ate some hot peppers he got from his house
Kid laid my ass with mace, say you don’t spray about
Kid didn’t see space until I pulled it out
What was it you ask? Pad and pen yah louse

“The Mad Man, out”

FIN