Rick Flare - The Constructus Corporation

Meet Rick Flare

Self-made millionaire

Uh-huh

Eccentric investor

Extraordinaire

Yeah, that’s right

Hi there

Meet Rick Flare

Self-made millionaire

Ah

Eccentric Investor

Extraordinaire

Yeah

And they’re like 'What's that distant rumbling?'

Guess who’s coming through thunderin'

Back on the scene

Rocking his black comedy

For all you little underlings

The fully poseable mimic is a disposable gimmick

Flip shiz, manipulative coroner lyric

That gets all up in your shit

Like a chorus when I speak

I freak intense sentences

Like a judge don’t mess around

Nobody can hold me back

When I’m all up in your face, like a faulty GAT

Come on girl

Let me see you work that booty to the beat

Like a salty crack

We’re here to motivate, there’s no debate

You’re overweight

MC sounds silly

Trumpets sound

Walls come tumbling down

Cuz a-Rick Flare’s so skinny

What you doing man, you’ve released a ghost

You’ve got company

It’s a parasite

Be the host

Now you want me to stop

But fuck it, I love it

Open the cupboard

Open the cupboard

Upon from within, all over you like skins

You’re so confident you’re gonna win, fuck yeah

No doubt Rick, definitely got flare

You may be sick but definitely not scared

Meet Rick Flare

Self-made millionaire

Uh-huh

Eccentric Investor

Extraordinaire

Yeah, that’s right

Hi there

Meet Rick Flare

Self-made millionaire

Like a rejuvenating 7 day detox plan for relieving constipation

Call me the immortal penetrating mystery, and revealing transformation

My super sound’s got me bumping all kinds of unexpected shit even for me like

my play thing

Cause then I’m looking back on what just happened flat out telling myself 'It's

fuckin' amazing'

You don’t wanna play with the psychosomatic ill one, 'scuse me if you could

lyrically move, that’s not-

Me looking at a burden above my head to think about what I — what I did to you

I’m on pool (?) pitch (?) bringing the cool shit all advanced like cyborg

And these fuckin' monkeys (?) all return western imperialist bullshit

Like from Saigon to hold you (?) the signal

I’ve got millions of minus minions plugged into my miser (?)

Plus some fan-girls on my dick go: 'We love you Rick'

Now don’t slip — illuminate (?) torches (?)

Deciphering impenetrable forces

Fucking with all sorts of raucous forces

I’m lost in this following, following orders

'Who is that guy?'