Rebuttle

I eat my cereal with lyrical mind, tapping my fingers to the grind , grooving like sir-mix'alot, but moving like a robot when you drop your tots on the spot. but in the end i cant mend what you bend cause that ain't proper....im just a doctor.

Rhyme:. like we used to

if my name were Abbeeb, I would plant my evil seed, in the village in the town, and all that you surround, like a viking in my boat, with these men ive built a moat, dont try and strep[tococcus] your throat, because i am merely a goat..

time for school.

what is you got, Scott?