It's a bird, it's a plane, it's an emcee, verbal da Vinci, words are empty, my cape flaps when it's windy,
I'm a superhero with a super ego, warn Timmy and Cindy, I wear flip flops when it's ten degrees, and I've
never had an injury, I've got invincible feet, this is flip flopped thrift shop hip hop, the kind the kids
cop whenever my hits drop, this is proof positive that true Protestants can produce hypnotic-fueled hip
hop products, but if you don't like me just let me know, keep the door closed shut, of course I won't show
up

Cause I, I don't know
I won't go nowhere
Where I'm not wanted
And I'm wanted right here

Woke up this morning and something was different, cause for once something wasn't missing, felt I wasn't
living in a prison, felt a sense of purpose, felt no sense of introverted mental insecurity disturbing me
or hurting me, it had inverted the earlier version of me, it was me versus me, versus the world, certain
the world would hate every one of the verses I hurled, leaving my world flipped upside down and inside
out, cut from the team before I tried out

Attention shoppers, blue cardigan tight fit dockers, it's Heath McNease, original hip hopper, we can sit
down and drink pop or something else, Jesus ain't my homeboy, He's not a bumper sticker or a t-shirt logo
for you to put on boy, He's not a marketing scheme, so stop targeting teens, show Him respect and His
heart can be seen