"I Am Going to Destroy You"

03:55

Lyrics

Let’s go I’m hard headed like Destro
Set to knock the tribal arm band tat off your best bro
You’re next though, so best believe you me
When I swear to god like I was Winton Dupree
My name is Johnny Wock and I could spout for days
I keep it dignified like Lord Alfred Hayes
I made the scene, but when I hooked up TiVo
I decided that I’m through being cool like Devo
So I divide my time between the TV I’m watching
And spending nights online clockin’ sneakers in auctions
But that’s the life of BTB I guess
On the couch, obese feline on my chest
I don’t obsess and stress, I’m still calm and collected
Spending time with these rhymes that have gone neglected
I abuse the text, so we’ll see who’s next
To get their set wrecked from my side suplex

Johnny Wockenfuss, I got a job to do
Already got you choking, yeah you’re turning blue

Words so fluid you should hook up an IV
Fill you full of needles till you look like a pine tree
A mainline, or just a trick and a ploy
To get you jonesin’ for more like Mark Renton and Sick Boy
I pass the pill because I’m playing the point
With a pedal to the metal like I’m AJ Foyt
So while my skills are quick and my words are wily
You keep playing the dumb guy like John C Reilly
When the weekend comes, I make a pot of coffee
Kick back and watch Big Daddy Kane in Posse
Write rhymes so fat they’ll have you trying Fen-phen
You better dream on like you were Brian Benben
You get no reception like a broken tuner
Rhymes so recycled they’re labeled post-consumer
You can’t compete, my words slick like Brylcreem
And I take it to the limit like a lyrical kill screen

Johnny Wockenfuss, I got a job to do
And I got the gumption so I’ll see it through

Sticks Downey, with no plans to stop yet
Bass drum kicks, it makes it stick like Aqua Net
Cinched up like a guy in a tight suit
And I got more beets than my man Dwight Schrute
It’s quite moot ‘Cause while you’re humming your next hook
I’m kicking out words like I punted a textbook
I’m not saying I’m a Mensa member
But if my head cocks back like a Pez dispenser
Hold out your hands I’m dispersing the sweet stuff
Words so rough they’ll leave your eardrums scuffed
So yo check this-you look smart so you know
I’m serving MCs like I was Artie Bucco
Sticks is it, and yeah I’m making that known
Wits so quick my brain strains my backbone
I keep coming back like Moises Alou
We’re the chosen few and I’m destroying you

Johnny Wockenfuss, I got a job to do
Search your feelings, you know it to be true