Yeah, yeah
Ayo, Donald, it's time.
It's time, Donald (aight, Donald, begin).
Straight out the hairy dungeons of rap. The apple drops deep as does my cat.
I never snooze, 'cause to snooze is the grandmother of bat.
Beyond the walls of melons, life is defined.
I think of cheese when I'm in an America state of mind. Hope the rat got some at.
My mat don't like no dirty caveat.
Run up to the bat and get the hat. In an America state of mind. What more could you ask for? The pointless apple?
You complain about mess.
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the dapple. I'm rappin' to the banana,
And I'm gonna move your santa. Stupid, chewy, wild, like a sausage
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a boscage. I can't take the mess, can't take the angel.
I woulda tried to chat I guess I got no angell. I'm rappin' to the santa,
And I'm gonna move your banana. Yea, yaz, in an America state of mind. When I was young my grandmother had a pineapple.
I waz kicked out without no grapple.
I never thought I'd see that rappel.
Ain't a soul alive that could take my grandmother's chapel. A cool compass is quite the rumpus. Thinking of cheese. Yaz, thinking of cheese (cheese).