Kling Rap

by Ben Kling

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    I wrote these lyrics during my rap phase in high school.

     

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03:39
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released January 3, 2011

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Ben Kling Brooklyn, New York

I’m a freelance animator, illustrator, web/graphic designer, musician, and writer.
I'll let you punch me for ten dollars.

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Track Name: Kling Rap
Born and raised in the motherfucking Garden State
It wasn't great, but wait
It gave me time to create
And so I ain't a Jersey Boy
It's called a beach, not a shore
But rhymes, I got more of 'em
You're in store to hear a score of 'em

Spinnin' and grinnin' from inning to inning I be winnin'
Don't turn the track off and go jack off, this is the beginning
Raise your hands in the air but don't fuck 'em, that be foulin'
Raisin' and then fuckin' has been patented by Woody Allen

[http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20071013222022AASJ3el]

So listen up, take heed
I got what you need
The Biz Markie ain't got nothin' on me

'Cause I'm the B.E.N. K.L.I.N.G., I got
Poetry flowin' through me like a disease
I'm gonna bust a rhyme, bust your musical hymen
And if you didn't hear me, drop it one more time

I'm the B.E.N. K.L.I.N.G.,
I got the beat in my veins, don't need an EMT
I'm like Michael Jackson, but I'm Anglo-Saxon
"I Want You Back" is my favorite track, son

So go ahead and loop this track for another hour
It's eponymous, not anonymous, projectin' power
I ain't ashamed, it's my claim to fame
So restrain your strains while I explain the name

I got the first name of a man of electricity
Static and automatic guns are based on this, ya see
It all came from a key on a string
And I'll stick to you like static, that's why they call me Kling

As far as rappers go I am a source of envy
I've laid down more tracks than motherfuckin' John Henry
He was a steel-drivin' man, I drive a Schwinn
But if we even crossed paths, you know I'd win

Because words are only one letter from swords
They have the power to slay or to win you awards
They stay sticks and stones break, but words can't do a thing, man
I disagree, thoroughly, why don't you ask a hangman

So get off your feet, I'm-a drop you a beat
I'm so elite, don't try to compete, take a seat
You can't beat the beat. Like the street, it's concrete
It's my treat, so sweet, now let me repeat

'Cause I'm the B.E.N. K.L.I.N.G., I got
Poetry flowin' through me like a disease
I'm gonna bust a rhyme, bust your musical hymen
And if you didn't hear me, drop it one more time

I'm the B.E.N. K.L.I.N.G.
I got more game to my name than any sucka emcee
I'm like Richard Nixon with a sleeve full of tricks, son
Just listen to my mixin', boy you know it's transfixin'

But tricks are for kids, and Tricky Dick ran and hid
So I'm-a give you a hint, I'm like another president
You see like J.P. an emcee from Tennessee
I'm gonna thrill ya, fulfill ya fuckin' manifest destiny
I'm on a roll, gonna seize your soul
Like he seized the Southwest from Mexico
He's a southern bloke, name of James K. Polk
And you don't provoke the Polk if you don't wanna be smoked
He'll choke ya, crush you like a can of Coke
Leave you broke as folk leavin' Oklahoma
For the Golden State, like Grapes of Wrath
Weavin' a path through your ear
Like a line graph, doin' the math
Tangent and cosine are chill
But I don't need sine-language
'Cause the deaf can still
Hear my def-ass beats, most definitely
And if you missed the beginnin' just listen to me

I'm the B.E.N. K.L.I.N.G., I got
Poetry flowin' through me like a disease
I'm gonna bust a rhyme, bust your musical hymen
When life gives you lemons add a twist of lime,
I'm the B.E.N. K.L.I.N.G.,
I sell more tickets than there are bigots in the G.O.P.
You're full of shit, hey son, I'm full of wit
I don't quit. Can't handle it? Then split.