Johnie Ray - Street Opera lyrics

[Verse 1: Johnie Ray] Street opera Johnie Pavarotti Your girl doing my toes I'm eating manicotti No windows to my soul A Modigliani So watch before your face gets cracked Like Halle Berry In JUNGLE FEVER My appeal is off the meter I'm far-sighted Maybe I need to get some readers I'll read ya Book, chapter & verse Your style is so deceased It belongs up in a hearse What's worse Somebody call the nurse These hoes flatlining Somehow they have the nerve Try to clown me It's an effing tragedy KING LEAR my dear The verge of insanity You're cramming me Like you study for some midterms One day you will learn As for now it's my turn Feel the burn Like you're doing squats Or it's '65 in Watts In a grave you will rot Mouths will drop While I'm sailing on a yacht Got a California king You're sleeping on a cot Next to Bubba At night he's going to bug ya Cut ya out the picture Ain't nobody going to miss ya Remember how lame you were And then forget ya Send a toast up Sing an aria from TOSCA "E Luce van le stelle" Kicking rhymes Like I'm rap version of Pele (aye) I shot ya Tetan*s from a doctor Test this flow you're gambling Like you're Procter Why bother--Mr. Bean as conductor Are y'all even on 1,2 I'll mic check ya Y'all been rated "C" from the health inspector Dookie a** raps down the toilet I will flush ya, I'll crush ya Like trash in a compressor I'm original y'all fall to peer pressure Like Raheem For a little bit of cream Bishop pulled the trigger Letting off a lot of steam I got the JUICE You can call me Q Here's a clue Find another job to pursue (Ooo) I'm battle tested, thirteen years vested Better think twice I ain't da one to mess with Do as suggested Go and transvest it Lip synch Nick blonde wig& pink dress it Then I can step with That garbage that you call spit Know it's hard to admit But you've lost like Mitt Romney I have the right to matrimony The Right can't cope They choke on my salami From Lenny's Deli No need to even tell me I reek of success Anosmics can smell me There's hope call Olivia Pope She'll handle your SCANDAL As though you were the pope In the Vatican Sex allegations Your Cards' a losing hand With loose hands on young men SIN--Self Inflicted Nonsense No one wins Beyond REVELATIONS Life really begins You're the 67th book of the Bible You're lost like Fievel The truth is never rivaled Folks got their hands up it's a revival No I was mistaken they're applauding my arrival (What?!)