All right. Listen up. This one is dedicated to the nerds, geeks, and strange weirdos. You know who you are.
Ready. Set. Go.
People think these thick ass lenses are flyin’ saucers.
If I’m walkin’ funny, take a look at my high waters.
They look and say, “Oh”.
That’s what happens when I’m mistaken for an alien or UFO.
Ignore snarky sneers from pesky peers.
Remarks 100% inconsiderate.
Open your metal mouth and prove they ain’t nothin’ but stupid and illiterate.
Their style is tasteless.
May as well be a Cheerio—just a full bowl of so-so. Now I’m gonna have a turn and go-go.
Not just sick—futuristic.
They’re gonna attack like Schwarzenegger in Terminator,
Go ahead, Han—add up the slim odds with that Casio calculator,
only chance is to feed ’em to a motherfuckin’ hungry alligator!
Step back. You didn’t win the attack…
…I’ll be back.
Run run run, John Connor. Can’t lock ‘n load a rhyme, and a dumb robot never taught you about honor.
You got me time-travelin’ in circles. I’m gonna puke. Please don’t make Skynet launch the nuke.
The future is gonna end,
because you picked a fight with the baddest T-1000.
Don’t be ashamed to be a strange weirdo.
Your creativity can be stretched like colorful playdough.
No need to be an instigator,
wear a pocket protector.
Listen to my story (please don’t mind the parts that are somewhat gory).
One day a jock stuffed a nerd inside his school locker,
I know…ain’t that a cliché shocker.
Said something about how he should have been a tad taller and cooler,
so the damn jock got bitchslapped by a 12-inch ruler.
You’d think the story was just play or pretend.
Nope, that was not the end.
One night he was cornered in a dirty bathroom stall,
in a rush but some filthy bastard forgot to flush.
A wrestler put him in a headlock—goin’ for a slamdunk or chocolate swirly,
he pulled a loaded protractor out of his pocket,
and that shitty plan ended quite abruptly.
Need no help from the team. Never sworn allegiance.
All the alliance I need: common sense and science.
Forgive me, ha, just bein’ me—
time to fold ’em up like paper Origami.
Use your fingers to count,
Mathematical. Tactical. Diabolical.
This is what happens when you mess with a pro.
Thanks for being part of the show.
Not gonna fade away like an extinct bird—no one remembers a flightless dodo,
you’ll never ever forget this strange weirdo.