Zecora's Rap

>Be Zecora
>Get out of school and see a group of people huddling around a truck with a boy standing in the trunk
>It's that hipster faggot with the fedora
>He's reciting poetry or some sh*t
>Only three lines long and doesn't even rhyme
>Or make sense
>People all around him applaud
>"Thank you!" he says, taking a bow
"Nigga, that was gay."
>Suddenly, everyone turns around and looks straight at you
>The kid with the fedora chuckles
>"It's obvious from your homophobic comments that you're not intellectual enough to understand the art of haikus."
"More like the art of you being a faggot."
>"Oh, you wanna mix words with me? Let's see you recite poetry then."
>You give him an unenthusiastic stare for a few seconds before dropping your backpack and joining him in the back of the truck

"Nigga, you're a hipster who ain't got any balls.
Bout to blow you out faster than Obama's race walls.
Even Twilight Sparkle learns her lessons from me.
You learn gay philosophy from your RPG's.
This muh fugga's playin' me. He don't know who I am.
I'm a f*ckin witch doctor straight from Simba's home land.
You try to preach your fashion senses, but you wear a fedora.
I'm bringin back them dank rags straight from Legend of Korra.
Hayl yeah! That's right, son!
You try n talk a lot of sh*t, but you ain't got any guns.
You wanna try to fight a nigga who lives deep in the hood?
I'll pop a motha f*ckin cap and f*ckin shut you up for good.
You don't know what I've done. You don't know what I've seen.
Try facin gangs up in the ghetto where there's blood on the streets.
I've cut up nigs who double-crossed me like you slaughter a cow.
I'm the motha f*ckin deal. So tell me, where's your God now?"

To be continued? Maybe?