[Verse 1]

Feelin sicker than a $#&@in dog

And even iller than a pig with the flu of a hog


^!$$%, my $#&@in nose has been $#&@in reclogged

Like my vocab when my rhymes are on top
Because I spit %#@! like an $$# with explosive diarreah


(*##$, you dont $#&@in know me, heres my $#&@in criteria

2 billion $#&@in views, makin Psy feelin teary-eyed

This %#@! probably has 100,


$#&@er, I'm the %#@!, makin feces feel deprived

I'm surprised these ^!$$%s 

Have $#&@in sur-vived


When half of'em cant even $#&@in' pro-vide

For their $#&@in family, I'm the spot in mine

I shine for my own light


Sometimes I feel $#&@in tight stranded

My life goes left, but I'm really $#&@in right handed


I'm $#&@in sick
Yeah


[Verse 2]

I'm a sick !@$(

I sneeze into my sleeve,


I keep all the bad %#@! trashed at

A junkyard I call my brain, clash

Made a loud $$# collision, maybe where these rhymes came to fathom


And when I rap them

My juices flow, so I trap them

And decap


The caps on a bottle of Snap

P-L-E gulp the %#@! down, made of the best stuff on Earth

Sike, ^!$$%, Im the best %#@! around


So I'm sippin on a bottle of me

Need a lobotomy 
I swear, my illness is gonna be the drop of me

Got enough $#&@in heart to $#&@in stop the beat


And stop the heat

Not the team

This damn cold, make these (*##$es retreat


Like Robert E. Lee on Hallow-we-een
Yeah, not givin any $#&@in candy

Got a $#&@in war to win! $#&@ WTB!


Although I am sick, I'm still gonna get up, because I'm still pretty damn slick


I'm a sick mother$#&@er


Like my dad when he was makin' me

9 months later, he's at a $#&@in job makin' cheese

Daddy made enough money


To raise a $#&@in family
Little did they know they would have to raise a ragin' beast
Who would later go by Rion, what a $#&@in' little prodigy is he

But he's feeling sickly
Insane or crazy, thanks for the other meaning, Urban Dictionary
I'm an urban dick shun fairy

'Cause I'm fly, give her the dick, and avoid all the pricks
Yeah, still $#&@in sick


Is there even a cure for amazing?
Don't even know, man
Uh

Yeah

[Verse 3]

Called in sick for the third motha$#&@in time
All these sevies waitin for my next motha$#&@in rhyme
^!$$%, I don't even try to $#&@in mind

All these haters, they the enemies that I try
To make cry
Usin' force to knock these !@$)s out, (*##$, I'm a $#&@in Jedi

I'm the sword without the samurai
Sharp as a $#&@er, but independent as being alive with one damn eye


Damn