Artist: Del the Funky Homosapien
Album:  Beats & Lyrics: Issue 1
Song:   Help Me Out
Typed by: Nelson2014@aol.com

Verse 1:

Mack Del impetuous
Tepetuous 
Bust flows ?
Under fire like appestos
All MCs grip my testicles
Let them go
No, I spread your flow like metal pull
Utensils such as scalpels 
Over your Adam's Apple
To make you alto 
Doggin' MCs and feed 'em Alpo
Your plan backfires to my satires
Got your flow sittin' on flat tires
My rogues rhymes rip through your lip when you bite
Like a lightenin' bolt for a volt of molten mite
Hazardiest to the average
Volt and death strike 
To your neck right 
On target
Bull's eye 
Then deflected off your neck with such velocity
It's sets the hip hop hostage free
In the terminal burnin' all MC's brains
Excellerated agents got you walkin' on canes
I'll be brief like Hanes
Mundane MCs get caned to retain my title
The vital organ donor 
To cut through the bonona
My escapes let you wave through the masquerade
Rain with disaster man out in your play book 
Cause they took
The funk merged with hate
And then regurgitate 
This concludes part of what causes murder rates to bubble
Meanwhile I take the shuttle to this girls crib so we can cuddle
And listen to my subtle rebuttal the butthole

Hook:
Words and phrases I prefer to play with
When occurs when I made it 
It's never outdated
Help me out (x2)

Verse 2:
I stifle your mic hold your grips slips don't let all your chips 
Throwin' away all your tips for thinkin'
That's dangerous
Leave that to the big boys
Sicker than Sig Freud
Peep, you wanna live forever but take too many chances 
You with many can get a piece of eastside Oakland folks 
When provokin' spoken dialects of broken English 
that distinguish us from y'all we 
Cause raps and own spots on the globe
And disrobe your bony mediocrity like Socrates
My Egyptian inscription shiftin' 
Brain cells with sick inflections
Suckas must be simpin'
Hop like Lipton
You'll get the microphone when I'm though if then
I form a rap court with my siblings 
The sort of thing that keep the crew tight
Even in it's new life
You think you're able to label the Hiero sound?
You still haven't found a comparable variable
I aim my flows they close in like smart bombs
Bury ya restricted areas
Me and my playmates we talented hip hop palatines
Patteling' to Sharlintons 
Knownin' what we are to them 
Makes us try hard to win
We attend the track promptly 
Rappers wanna chomp me
They empty 
I'm mega morph with mega force don't fort deceit the beat i
I's a treat
Compete at the war on the weak

Hook

Verse 3:
Del carelessly convorting
Over more things than tracks 
Your skull perhaps 
Spinal taps vinyl laps over each other  you'll discover 
oon enough how tough it is to scruff them bids
At accsions I'm lost in madness
Lacadazical but coming back to fade you ALL
I don't make music for the teeny boppers the coppers and proper booshy
Y'all can lose me 
Or find me but keep in mind we
Underground when you get offended 
As you often do when you new comers
Check the rap scene for a few summers
Then when it change you shift lanes 
But first you mergin' 
First you was a virgin splurgin' money on P.E.
Then with N.W.A. 
But too much trouble to play
Mom on your ass turn that trash down
Your little brother getting' bright ideas in the background
He use to war Hush Puppies 
Now he and his homies is dust junkies sellin' crack cross country 
Use to be a momma's boy
Now you a grown man with no plan
All alone in the land of the free and the home of the brave
Free to be your own mental slave
Del has to have a word with you 
Because you deserve to do what you want to
But mistakes come back to haunt you

Hook (x2)

Microphones settin' off (x2)