We Are the Ones (Reservoir Poetry)

Yeah, yeah, check it.
Love, I get so lost
Lost as Mathew Fox
Sad dude in a bad mood rising
Bad mood, feelin' down
Bad music
Call him in Neptunes
'Seein' Sounds'
Down like a running back needed ground
bit my tongue, bleeding mouth
Got red drippin' on my new sneaks
Slipped on my two feet
Toes in the air
I'm livin' on a nude beach
And everybody here's in a two peice
While my souls bare
"Boobies"
Spelled on a calculator...
True School rapper with middle school humor
Old School like Will Ferrel with no school tutor, real
It's not a tumor
That was a flat out rumor
My head never swelled
But you assume the ballooned
Mind-state will inflate into Myspace
At a high rate
It makes me irate
My module is lunar
And needs a tune up
Makes it hard to drive straight
Imagining gravity-defying happenings installed under my driveways
Parked sideways for more than four out of five days
The other two have slipped up, ablaze
Now twist-up, the high-grade, my mind mixed-up
And phased out my faith and turned it into doubt, I'm out
We are the ones, that you are not
You are the ones, we will never be now
It's the, Mister North of the 49, spit up
The sort of rhymes, you can borderline picture
Storytime, Slick Rick meets Mordechai Richler
On point like a porcupine prickler
Yeah, I put it down break ground like quakes
Shake your beaker off the scale overweight
Heavy-hitter with the switch-stance 34 waist
Always drop on the buttons and I'm stayin' in shape
And I'm Shad, you can add a "K" if you wish to
Official scatterbrain, East of Adelaide I miss you
I get Live like Saturday Night, no issue
Now that's all that I have to say, Rizzle who is you?
Now I'm the mystery hidden in the riddle within the puzzle
Dealing with the issues on delivery, critical
I'm quick, on the uptake Relic fits rally
On the status updates, we're the ones you must rate 'cause...
We are the ones, that you are not
You are the ones, we will never be now
(x2)
A nice lady, take her out for a nice meal like veal
(Clubbin'?) Nah, too loud and too crowded
It's not Two-thousand and Nine, B
I ain't 19, I ain't waitin' in no line; please
It's boring as pourin' over rhyme schemes
And cats grindin' tryin' to be the last sign like Pisces
I'm not Chinese, but I like me some light chi iced tea with pearls
Find me on a nice beach doin' Tai Chi with girls
And it's likely that I might see the world off of rappin' these bars
It's a trick passin' these stars in a casting call for the acting captain in charge
I'm the black Captain Picard...
Sergent of the rebel army, charming as a devil with hustle on the level of Barney Rubble on Red Bull
A vessel at the end of the day, I'm not the bee's knees,
Only need knees to bend them to pray
Break bread with the saints, for the sake of having bread during the wake
This here's a full-time work group
And virtue is on-and-off of the church pew
Searching you find,
before this verse through, find the merch booth spend some time (ow!)
(Chorus to outro)