Banana slices over Captain Crunch, that’s what’s up
Elmer Fudd harassing Daffy Duck, that’s what's up
The magic touch is aptly wrapped up in his rabbit punch
Attackers dumping hazmat into the aqueduct
Splash, that’s what's up
Pattern-makers acclimate to cabin fever
Meter-mapping, tapping out the dagger wave
Crash and grapple with the castaway who crack the cuffs
A little hack and slash, a little razzle-dazzle, that’s what’s up
Rag tag bunch, bag lunch heavy
The treasury keep his petty cash in bad luck pennies
I came in the door a flash flood to the levee
Wearing paint made of mashed berries and blood of the yeti
Bet, the mathematics doesn't rattle us, that’s what’s up
It’s adding up to a massive hole where the attic was
I’m in the alley where it smell of actual battlefront
And weed and coke and meth and crack and dust, that’s what’s up
Buzzing down the ave, had the whole block shouting "That’s what’s up" when I pass
Flea bags in the back seat, ruffles on the dash
Returning to the scene to free his monkeys out the lab
Dag, that’s what’s up, goat legs, goat horns
Damn it all, plants all scarecrows and no corn
You should see the whole horde climb down and go forth
Ghost-world exports, rival town folklore, oh lord
Every atom cut to splatterpunk
Predisposed to rabble-rouse, batten down, that’s what’s up
At the Lily pad, filling nickel bags of funk
Ducking all these silly fads, shit is wack, that’s what’s up
Lately, I been watching mostly horror flicks
People being disemboweled, demons doing parlor tricks
Witches in the forest making soup with supernatural stuff
Creature on a killing spree, "It’s him or me," that’s what’s up
By jove, roadside oddity
Roam side roads that defy cartography
Fat drum snatch and run, ragamuffin, that’s what’s up
Missed you at the double back, catch you at the jackal hunt
Hacks, that's what's up
“Is that what’s up?”, that’s what’s up
That’s a pack of travelers acting savage to the maximum
Up before the other team
Taut leash in each hand, it looks like I’m water skiing
Well, I'll be damned, wrong day to reach land
Take the long way around to shake the unseen hand
Son, be a lamb, cold brew, vanilla, oat
Keep em coming 'til his every stupid cell explode
Rap stickers on his travel mug, that’s what's up
Key lime pie, graham cracker crust
I wouldn't trust a single one of y’all to crack the dutch
Nobody checking y'all like “That’s the stuff,” that’s what’s up