Timothy "Mit" Kelly. Novi, Michigan.
Not even from the slums of Michigan, I grew up into a wealthy kid
But all this drama fucked up my shit; I sit into a pit of hell and hang around like a lynchin' and
Sit up to the edge of my seat and freak as I eat all the Ritalin
Spinnin' heads again, fitness misfit is Tim;
Lazy as fuck, hasn't stood up from his futon since the last blue moon, son
But enough depression for a second, let me ask myself why I'm here
Rapping a free verse in the shoes of a spoken poet, hell, I don't know it.
One of my friend's broke, one almost choked himself to death, forgot how he spoke,
One's an untrusty bloke, one's always on coke, and one faked their death for a joke!
Haha. So, go tell me about friendship and then send me a Facebook poke.
I think I'm crazy, I don't know when I last awoke,
I may be sitting at a desk, sleeping in class: Z, z, z.
So if I be, as I sleep, tap on me with an eraser or something so I stop counting sheep! Bahhh...
Bah humbug. I'm dyslexic and haven't read this shit so I have to remember it! Gah!
So, Thanksgiving is approaching us; it's that time of year.
Turkey stuffing, apple pie, bet your ass there's lots of beer!
Pass that keg over here and I'll drink it until the tube is clear.
Beerpong accuracy is on point, I don't hit near, I hit here.
Nah. I'm just fucking around. Like a lewd sphere.
How does he string words like this? Is he Shakespeare?
What? Fuck no. I'm an idiot savant that happens to be a rhyme schemer.
So fuck ya bloodsuckers with all your swagger.
Back to the holidays, I gotta thank ya, so I submit gratitude to my two legs who supported me
And all the Native Americans who died to give whitefolk this magnificent country.
For Halloween, I went as me. I mean, I look in the mirror and see all the evil in me
So if I let it free on Hallow's Eve, the gallows gotta squeak.
For Christmas, I want the bottled insanity in me, not anything short of a pear tree.
For New Years, my resolution is dang tootin' to be less rude and spark less feuds and
to stop doing stupid shit, but wait, who am I kidding? Who'd a knew,
I already tried doing this two years back, so ludicrous and stupid of Mit.
Mit? Yes, it's backwards for Tim, for this bastard, it fits.
Can't spell slaughter without laughter, now can ya?
So pass the last slice of pizza and bottle o' Corona over here
Abracadabra, it's gone, vanished into thin air, like this song,
And with me and everything, it's gone.