Hurricane Haiku Lyrics

Hurricane Haiku, thunderstorm bringer,

The opposite of mumblecore and gutter ball swingers

Boogie board flow, a Juggernaut, bigger

Foreseen by the foresight of Dumbledore, mingers

On a Mobius the groove twists elliptically,

Marathon the booth, bring a smooth synchronicity

Paralyzing weak rhymers, vandalizing,

Feller's dreams fantasizing of battle rhyming,

I leave them shitting in their panty linings,

Saying Ku's gonna lose that's false advertising,

Analyzing rappers, u not got diddly,

Poppy nob jocks looking tiddly to widdly

For tune fondue Cop Ku on your Jukebox,

Hot like the "Hong Kong flu" no flu shot,

Dong Zhongshu on tracks like a bullet train,

Funks in his veins since sucking on a sugarcane

"Deep" from the heart to the limbs,

To the parts on your body where you're parking your timbs,

It's within, without, ushered out the mouth,

A down-and-out buzzard, with butter sounding out

From right about now till finally respected,

For rhyming, you'll never find my time being neglected

Compiling beatscapes, rhyme pyrotechnics,

Highly eccentric, from Cairo to Memphis

Gotta make a flow, a matter so vital,

For this old jackal, rap is his soul's bible,

Dub sampler, rapper, holding both titles

Now back to the tabernacle rattling control dials,

Stepping outside in a feather-down dressing gown,

Red and brown letters around his belly button spelling out

"Haiku" off a sweet BBC voice,

B girls purr and b-boys rejoice

Looking "frikking cool" in his fresh threads –

The best-dressed chicken in school gets death threats

Off metal heads, clowns, townies, and preppy jocks,

For getting betties right down to their best socks

Plus nada more

Ready? .. Steady? ... Bonking dreadlocked hotties like it's Parkour

Ku Used to boogie just for Nookie

Now im tooky "So what dookie? wanna a fuckin cookie?"

Nah beef gravy, better yet Yorkshire pudding,

Heavy set feller more belly for the loving

Rappers getting yammed like ya grandma's lasagna,

Haiku's jams make fans "Ay Karamba"

Haters gonna hate, say tunes don't relate

Cos ku use breaks not auto-tuned computer games …

Each to his own like single file lines

And it'ss high time haiku moved with the times

"I guess?" … and let others get a word in and,

So bred, I don't have to go red, like Rio Ferdinand

Sitting in a turban and, camping in the badlands,

Rapping and, sipping bourbon, and burning thangs ….

Birdman! From Blackburn to white sands,

My man's nice fam's white with a slight tan,

Still, he holds the mike right tight in his right hand

And backslaps rappers of all types and their hype man