Well my name is Schaffer and I’m here to say I can rock the mic in the old school way I got a funky sound And right about now I’d like to break it down Uh, uh, say what? Go! Just call it hip hop, and not a thing it isn’t If you listen it’s similar, it isn’t any different Rhythmically delivered lyrics from a wicked beast Are but one of this and hip hop’s similarities ‘Cause I go “bounce” in my shows and do rap hands See, look at me, now give me a dap, fans My whole crew back during our youths We bumped Dr. Dre, grew up on Dr. Seuss I choose to use the word “rapper” ‘cause that is most accurate I do talk fast use rhyming words like “immaculate” Hubba Bubba Bubbleyum Bubbalicious bubble gum Rubber baby buggy bumpers, here I come (hi!) I did raps in my heyday you could call hypocritical But I listened and learned and grew and got more political I wanna send a shout-out to Random and Front And those who taught me to be thoughtful with stuff and say “what?!” Well, I’ve got some damage and some baggage and some habits My name is STD, I’m just a whole bunch of rabbits I’m so dapper, this is a fact too A whole bunch of rabbits stacked inside of a man suit Well, I’ve got some damage and some baggage and some habits My name is STD, I’m just a whole bunch of rabbits Everyone will wonder when in spring, fall or summer I will play their town and step to the mic They’ve been begging for the rapper who’s just a bunch of rabbits When I hit the stage they’re all hella psyched (outta sight) I don’t freestyle, I write and re-write words ‘Cause for me that’s a skill so difficult it’s absurd Rappers who can, the most advanced that I have heard Where STD is just abbreviation for standard (oh!) My DJ does shows when he’s able Otherwise it’s just tracks, a 58 and a cable An onstage DI and some monitors too But no reverb on the mix, sound techs, thank you And sometimes I get gruff and say “step the fuck back” I apologize for that - isn’t how I like to act I like to keep my audience up close to the stage But sometimes I need little space right after I play So where’s Queens at? (what?) Where’s Queens at? (what?) Dude, let me show you on this street map (oh!) It’s right here, over Roosevelt, across the East River That’s enough of that, yeah, I’ve got some raps to deliver (oh!) Every bunny, look at me Who’s he? He’s STD He’s that freak from NYC In suits who yells and poses, see? (oh!) And he’s so - I don’t know I know he’s so dapper, and that’s when I go Hotel, motel Holiday Inn Every time I cite lines from Rapper’s Delight Goosebumps are jumping out of my skin (I win) And I dance given any goddamn chance Even when in the back by the merch with the fans Pull a pen from my pocket when I autograph a poster Sipping cheap, yellow beer, clear out when meet n’ greet’s over When a rapper says “throw your hands up!” I do When a rapper says “make some noise!” I do Exciting an audience is part of the process So I’ll always try to do it, that’s the STD promise I’ve tried to battle rap, but it’s hard and I’m wack So instead I keep my focus where my talents are at Goddamnit, and I won’t be grammar pedantic Language keeps evolving and it’s usage is organic I got props for the real hip hop Those who pop and lock to the beat of a boom box Throwing parties on the block like “fuck the cops” Gunning for that top spot, and you don’t stop Every bunny, look at me Who’s he? He’s STD He’s that freak from NYC In suits who yells and poses, see? (oh!) And he’s so - I don’t know I know he’s so dapper, and that’s when I go Don’t push me ‘cause I’m close to the edge And I’m trying not to lose my head (uh huh huh huh huh) I’m not the best or the baddest, I’m a colony of rabbits Stuffed inside a human costume instead (I said) I almost always write my rhymes on a page Of 3 x 5 notebooks I buy at Rite Aid And I like to write them with a Pilot Precise Five Rolling ball, black ink in extra fine, I Sometimes use a titular line Try sticking to my theme and write original rhymes Indeed I smoke weed, I rarely write without it And once again for like the hundredth time I’ve rapped about it I guess I often write a song by my formula Which is three verse followed by three choruses And often open going “yo! yo!” It just flows and gets it going when I open a show Though I won’t suggest I’m always knowing what I’m doing (what? what? what? what?) ‘Cause oftentimes awful rhymes do ruin (ugh) An otherwise perfectly fine instrumental Sometimes I do avoid ink and write with a pencil And erase the parts that don’t sound so hot This will all be covered in my workshop Entitled, “This Is How to Write a Rhyme At Least It’s How to Write One in the Style That’s Mine” Every bunny, look at me Who’s he? He’s STD He’s that freak from NYC In suits who yells and poses, see? (oh!) And he’s so - I don’t know I know he’s so dapper, and that’s when I go Ooh! Ooh! Yo, it’s animal control But I really doubt they’re coming for me ‘Cause nobody has called that I’m not human at all And that I’m rabbits masked as STD Just call it hip hop, and not a thing it isn’t It isn’t any different, did you listen as I did it? I just spit a mile a minute, now I’ll hit it and quit it I’m only kidding, you with it? You in it? You get it? Well, I’ve got some damage and some baggage and some habits My name is STD, I’m just a whole bunch of rabbits Bass! How low can you go? If you don’t know, your little brother knows This is the end of the track called the Rabbits And thanks for coming out to the show

I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets And in my pockets I got a lot of objects Anything you want I bet I probably got it ‘Cause I got an awful lot in my pockets I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets And in my pockets I got a lot of objects Maybe I’m a hoarder or whatever you call it But yeah, I got a lot of stuff in my pockets What I’m always telling you? PKW Phone, keys, wallet, Ilana, PKW I’m running through an inventory of my pockets Phone, keys, wallet, wallet, keys, phone, wallet – got it Check them off the list and see what we missed Got a cool mint spritzer in a Listerine Mist Next to a Chapstick, flavor: original Four black rubber gloves, I ain’t even kidding, y’all I got a handkerchief and half a pack of Chiclets A gold adapter and some old raffle tickets Eleven ultra lights left in a pack A fresh Bic lighter (What color is it?) black, duh A paperclip, a Duane Reade receipt Apple earbuds and a couple of beats A fine point roller ball, a notebook too In which I wrote these lyrics and drew pictures of dicks I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets And in my pockets I got a lot of objects Anything you want I bet I probably got it ‘Cause I got an awful lot in my pockets I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets And in my pockets I got a lot of objects Maybe I’m a hoarder or whatever you call it But yeah, I got a lot of stuff in my pockets And if it gets intense, I got a leather collar I got fifty cents and forty-seven dollars A lucky talisman, a foot from a rabbit, son Half a dozen bullets though I never really had a gun A cookie fortune with a sick prediction Sixty doses each of my six prescriptions A macaroni poster that a little kid made A switchblade comb, also got a switchblade A broken bracelet that states I’m living fabulous A room key card from the Hyatt Minneapolis I have a hammer, I got a power sander And a mint condition ’82 Cobra Commander I got power chargers and batteries for days Talking 9 volts, D-cells, triple double A’s An inaccurate schematic for a nuclear bomb And an autographed photograph of me and your mom I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets And in my pockets I got a lot of objects Anything you want I bet I probably got it ‘Cause I got an awful lot in my pockets I got a lot, I got a lot of pockets And in my pockets I got a lot of objects Maybe I’m a hoarder or whatever you call it But yeah, I got a lot of stuff in my pockets I got some coasters and coke mirrors and frisbees And every CD every local band ever gives me I got a sailboat, it’s got a missing rudder Got a loaf of bread, container of milk, a stick of butter An untouched 35mm print of Star Wars A peanut butter cup, a couple of car doors From a DeLorean, a portrait of Dorian I got a bunch of live goddamn scorpions I got a mannequin and a jack-o-lantern A bottle of pinot and a glass decanter I got bedbugs, a slug bug and a pair of pliers I got earplugs, a butt plug, I’m wearing a wire A full set of horseshoes and a pony bridle An ice sculpture of a moose on a motorcycle The Mona Lisa crafted in ceramic beads Got a pepperoni pizza and a bag of weed

[STD Verse] Oh shit, I did it again Dropped unpopular opinions in a comment thread On the topic of cover songs, I posted I found Britney Spears’s “My Prerogative” tops Bobby Brown’s Yeah, I said it, once again for the cynical Her version of it’s far better than the original Bobby’s was a temper tantrum when it was written Then Britney came along and dropped a new edition With the tabla at the top and the beat in your face And that “DER DER DER DER” nasty bass And the lyrics sound less like a bad boy Than a young woman pushed to the edge by the tabloids I set a fire to that comment section And this is a cover of a cover like Inception And we can disagree on the song And that’s fine, it’s your prerogative to be wrong

[CHORUS] Slow bros Why you going so slow? Like you’re going slo-mo Taking up the whole road Oh no Slow bros walking in a line, bros Looking at your iPhones Look, I’m out of time No time Go slow bros Walking down on my block Taking up the sidewalk Left and right sides blocked You got me in a tight spot I’m trying to get by, got To get uptown to my job Was moving at a light jog But now I’m stuck behind y’all If I pass these white jocks Will they mock how I walk Or look at me with eyes crossed? Probably best if I cross But if you wanna fight, Brock I’ll kick your fucking lights off And outline you in white chalk Mic drop [CHORUS] Where’s your destination? Are you going places? Or are you only pacing At the pace of Jason? Are you secret agents With hidden lairs in basements Like military bases Commanding battle stations? Did you come in spaceships Wearing human faces Preparing an invasion Determined to enslave us? Or were these just arrangements To guarantee my lateness? I’m running out of patience Say it [CHORUS] Slow bros Shake you like a snow globe Take you to my dojo Break your fucking nose bones Oh no Slow bros Maybe all your mojo Chose to be a no-show And that’s what makes you so slow But I don’t really know though

[STD VERSE] Check me out, y’all, I’m the leader of the plaque With a cold heart as black as my jacket, now on your back, smack! Yeah, I’m addict, both of drugs and your fears Addled by my own depravity, I’m drunk on your tears Your tries to fight this gingivitis only find you violence Your incisors bite these pliers, crying like a child, silence! Shoving needles in your rotting gums is awfully fun Brutally drilling your bad tooth like it’s Audrey One A slow extraction, you can have that for free As you scream, I’ll laugh my ass off, yeah the gas is for me Fitting you with vintage braces, make you bark like a dog Now hands up! Who wants their teeth done by the Marquis de Sade? Now sit and slip into the bib and spit into this cup, I love To whip you till you bleed, and I ain’t even wearing gloves My novocaine is sugar water, fuck it if you’re numb Now shut up, open wide, here I come

Joe was the top guy on a Man Show A comic on the radio, a boatload of fan bros Listened for opinions they could pick up When he said that PC culture’s on a witch hunt Bitch, what? Aww #Metoo’s got you blue? Lay down as the woman I'm gonna cater to you Your wood is important. Relax: decompress As I tie you up as a place this giant board on your chest This weight on my shoulders? Can you handle it? Let it all fall down cause I wanna keep you grounded. All my heavy shit press down on your vital organs This weight cracks your bones til you scream “No more man” Good boy! I see your tongue wag And your eyes bug out. You’re breathless Goodnight baby. And all my witches Hunting fuckboys down. We’re flipping the script yeah Double, double, toil and trouble As the fire rises, blood will boil and bubble The blue moon eclipse is high, and under its light The witches are coming, they’re going hunting tonight Double, double, boil and bubble You have summoned up a coven of them, boy, you’re in trouble You can cry, you can try to hide or run underground But the witches are coming out, they’re hunting you down Liam was a movie star on the A-list Beloved by all, considered one of the greatest But on a press tour stop he pulled a sick stunt When he said the #metoo movement is a witch hunt Bitch, what? How dare you claim, these girls pain is a fallacy actually having the audacity to name this Blasphemy tragedy and savagery happened in women’s history you a bitch to me, we’re switching shit up in this century who am I, oh you insist? Bring ya dumbass here, I’ll show you how I lived tie you to this rock, piercing thru ya skin and limbs say bye to ya kids, hurl you off the sixth st bridge I am tired of this shit, double boil and bubble y’all have summoned a bunch of us, mother fuckas in trouble I swear y’all talk mad with no consequence let’s see how bad y’all get, facing the wrath of a witch Double, double, toil and trouble As the fire rises, blood will boil and bubble The blue moon eclipse is high, and under its light The witches are coming, they’re going hunting tonight Double, double, boil and bubble You have summoned up a coven of them, boy, you’re in trouble You can cry, you can try to hide or run underground But the witches are coming out, they’re hunting you down Donnie was the CEO of America Beleaguered by scandals, he’d just deny and disparage them With each day’s bombshell, he’d whip up A tweet to save face with his base and blame a witch hunt Bitch, what? American citizens gather around your disgrace of a POTUS Camera lenses from every state put his face into focus And witness a witch’s way to serve him his fate I bet the ratings will be great as he's burned at the stake We got the flames to roast him hotter than the correspondent’s dinner If you thought his skin was thin? It's about to get thinner So gather up the kindling, ring around the rosie, he’s in high demand Tie a whole lot of rope around his tiny hands The imminent incineration will be instrumental in proving his innocence But if he’s a sinner the tinder will immolate him like they do in Leviticus Listen to the sizzle we’re crisping the skin of the pig as we set him ablaze And take with him ALL religious extremists and bigots, making America great Double, double, toil and trouble As the fire rises, blood will boil and bubble The blue moon eclipse is high, and under its light The witches are coming, they’re going hunting tonight Double, double, boil and bubble You have summoned up a coven of them, boy, you’re in trouble You can cry, you can try to hide or run underground But the witches are coming out, they’re hunting you down

Yo, you got a problem? I got some, lots of ‘em Everywhere I look, I’m crawling with ‘em, rotten ones Bottom rung dwellers want a bare knuckle catfight They got skeletons and belt buckles, that’s right Here they come, bum bum hits the kick drum Wicked like the pictures, get your stun gun, dum dum I’m done, son, better boost up the pace They got me cruising through space, they got me losing my faith They got me right where they want me, and they’re coming in hot Gotta slip a little distance in, get under their shots I brought a bat to a cannon battle, run to the spot And hold up inside and pack up my pride and cry “mother of god!” Rocking a hate-based rage making it up to the top Feel like my eyeballs’ll burst, my eardrums gonna pop I got my talons out, calling like a bald eagle I got seven billion problems, and they’re all people I hate people, I hate people, they’re evil At their best, they’re bad, at their worst, they’re lethal Lost all hope, past the end of my rope I’m just a misanthrope, and I can’t cope, people I hate people, see, all people equally Just a plague upon a planet we inhabit needlessly It’s too late for me to wait for what the future brings I’ve seen the human beings ruin things Watch ‘em cheat and steal and turn a blind eye Watch the self-serving, back-stabbing, wolf criers lie Watch ‘em feed, turn their wants to needs, greed getting big Watch ‘em wallow in their sickness, filthy two-legged pigs Watch ‘em pass you on the right, park and take up two spaces Interrupt you when you when you’re speaking, making smug, vacant faces Cut you at the bar, plunking down not a bone And come to a dead stop on the stairs and then fuck around on their phones Back peddle hate speech like they were jesting only Block a sidewalk, walking four abreast slowly Push their way aboard and block the doors on the train Out with their hella giant umbrellas after the passing of rain You mouth-breathing, open-mouth-eating cretins spit and spray You manspreading, mansplaining pricks, put your dicks away You name-dropping, shade-tossing, never-been stars Oh god, delete this species, please start over on Mars I hate people, I hate people, they’re evil At their best, they’re bad, at their worst, they’re lethal Lost all hope, past the end of my rope I’m just a misanthrope, and I can’t cope, people I hate people, see, all people equally Just a plague upon a planet we inhabit needlessly It’s too late for me to wait for what the future brings I’ve seen the human beings ruin things All of the sexist and the racist and deluded White dudes who think that criticism equals persecution Fuck the All Lives Matter crowd, feed ‘em to the fishes With the sickening Christians calling their bigotry freedom of religion The pious with their bias-backing stats they cite as facts And the bros in feminist clothes who don’t get claps, then attack The sexual predators, circling sharks who depend Upon the support of the chickenshit rape apologists they call friends Like that pretentious artist fuck who fights that man is better And that no-talent hack who still bites the hands that fed her The guy who wanted me working for free and talked shit when I didn’t And all of the kids who say that I suck who’ve been in my scene for like minutes Those who have the power to resist, but wouldn’t dare And the child in the White House and those who put him there I’m over ‘em, fed up, I’m had enough of their stay And if you’re with me, put a hand up, now go the fuck away I hate people, I hate people, they’re evil At their best, they’re bad, at their worst, they’re lethal Lost all hope, past the end of my rope I’m just a misanthrope, and I can’t cope, people I hate people, see, all people equally Just a plague upon a planet we inhabit needlessly It’s too late for me to wait for what the future brings I’ve seen the human beings ruin things Now fuck off

Well I saw the thing crawling out of the ground It was stumbling about, made a horrible sound I commenced to shaking and I say "ooh-eee! It looks like a purple people hater to me" It was a four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater Four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater Four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater Sure looks strange to me (four eyes?) Well he brushed off the earth and he leaned on a tree I said Mr. Purple People Hater, don't hate me I heard him say in a voice so gruff (STD ...) It was a four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater Four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater Four-eyed, devil-horned, crying purple people hater Sure looks strange to me (devil horns?) I said, Mr. Purple People Hater, what's your deal? And then he shot me a look, his eyes were cold as steel I asked him the reason that he came to land (STD ... ) Well bless my soul, rock and roll, crying purple people hater Pigeon-toed, under-growed, crying purple people hater (Hot pink hot pants!) friendly little people hater What a sight to see (oh!) And then he turned from the tree and his face had turned red And he started to rap, up off the top of his head It was a syncopated cadence with a banging hook (STD: ... ) Well, hit the stage, get a cage, crying purple people hater Middle-aged, made of rage, crying purple people hater (STD: ... ) crying purple people hater What a sight to see (purple people?) Well, he went on his way, and then what do you know? I saw him last night at a hip hop show He was killing it up until he saw me and said That if I ever say his name again I'll wish I were dead