Sixth Sense - Curriculum lyrics

[Eyedea] My name's Mr. Eyedea And I'll be you're teacher for this cla** You're past pre MC school You're with the big boys now So you better bust that a** It starts at some 6:35 I'm gonna turn you little b**hes into some MC's That get live arrive wide awake and ready to work Sit with proper posture in your desk Or you'll never be worth my energy twerp (twerp) Participation's 90% of your final grade When the vinyl's played open your MC-ology book up to the title page Look up to me as your idol My recitals make students totally lose it and become suicidal Hey ya gotta come to cla** prepared, pencil or pen I don't care You square, you don't need schooling, fooled in, step up I double dare ya Here's your syllabus punk, have your parents sign it And 90 hours of freestyle is your first homework a**ignment You wanna ditch? try it ("um 'scuse me?") b**h, quiet when I'm speaking Follow all these rules if you wanna learn about MC'ing *speaking* "I dunno why he's so aggressive, I mean I know there's a better way to like, get across to your students than that, he's just so.." Man, I told you to be quiet, can't you see I'm trying to school ya? Gimmie the hand you hold the mic with so I can smack you with my ruler or spend an hour after school, handcuffed naked to two turntables while Abilities takes his records and lashes you You have an attitude, read chapter two It has to do with aptitudes and sk**s That's changed the way you feel this afternoon Only one bathroom pa** is issued a semester So you better learn to control your bladder Man add a tad of soul to you're flow That's too slow that's too fast You didn't enunciate at all in the last word in that paragraph Stay on task! And copy this word off the chalkboard- It's pronounced "confidence" Find yours and use it against the soph*mores Walk towards my desk, pick up this next work sheet You get a dismissal if you disrupt or disobey You say you're thirsty? Well you have to wait till you get home And the only supplies you need for this cla** is a rhymebook, headphones, and a pencil Yo, now you're getting used to training the lyrical fitness Everyone says I'm a good teacher But they also say I'm one of the strictest Got a room full of zombies, pay attention Take your notes, control your breath hold the mic close to mouth Close your eyes, amplified, don't be scared, break a sweat, show a vein After that cash'll attach itself to your sack and you'll go insane So you're lame now? well, you'll be crisper after this year Just don't get punked at the lunch table When kids say "you can't sit here" You gotta have perfect attendance so don't get suspended And all that sh** about trying to be a rebel, man, end it Or you'll have to write ten thousand sentences Saying you appreciate me gratefully Now how will that do for your reputation with the ladies? Wipe the drool off the desktop either be a teachers pet and get props Or walk your wanna be MC a** to the bus stop Go ahead, drop out but I guarantee you'll be aggravated When you're a thirty one year old bum thinking damn, I wish I graduated It's a lot easier to go to bed at night then f** up