Joker Face

He could do whatever he likes, that's because he's insane/
And he would have a hell of life, if he could just kill Bruce Wayne/

He's got his green hair slicked up/
Cooked grenades and Harley Quinn in the pick up/
Looking in the mirror, stuffing a flag in an open bottle of liquor/
The tv saying he a sicko, but he don't care, now it's time to pick the clique up/
Hopped down the steps, jumped in the whip/
Reloaded his "Bang!" gun with one or two clips/
Opened a bag of M&M's, only eating the green ones/
Speeding through red lights, and stopping at the green ones/
A true maniac, if you've never seen one/
Parked in front of Arkham, he about to free some/
His face, as pale as a ghost, asks the chick at the front desk,"Wanna hear a joke?"/
like..

His plan is pretty clever tonight, he just freed a few of his friends/
Waiting for the Batman to show, so they can start beginning the end/

He doesn't drink al-al-al-al-al-alcohol/
But he inhales chloroform and ethanol/
Breathing in nitrous, until he about to fall/
Now he's grinning ear-to-ear, and he at the mall/
Throwing gas canisters down the hall/
Watching people laugh 'til they die, he had a ball/
Having the time of his life, not realizing, it's that time of the night/
Not until he hears the glass and crashing of lights/
Not until he was getting his pistol/
Took a look out the window and peeped the signal/
like..

Mr. Freeze all tied up, now Catwoman's fighting/
Two-Face letting off shots, and Killer Croc's biting/
26 second's later, it's over in a cinch/
He laughing so hard, the punch came, he ain't flinch/
His jaw all jacked up, so he can't snitch/
Couldn't explain the punchline that everybody missed/
Now he's so cool, calculated calm/
Handcuffed, up in the truck, no cause for alarm/
No tricks up his sleeves, no gadgets on his arms/
No guns, no acid, no buzzers on his palms/
Went to Arkham with no fight, no jokes, no qualms/
Cuz they don't know he left like six bombs in the mall/
He grinning like..

Comedy

This is a joke.
Life is a joke.
Comedians are prophets, teetering on the precipice over a great abyss,
An endless void of all knowing..knowing nothing.

Life is a joke with limitless potential and possibility, but with only one punchline.
Punctuated by lines that never left Pryor's mind,
Were stifled in Carlin's heart,
Can be found in the breast-pocket of Bernie's church suit,
Fell out of Kinnison's trenchcoat,
And into Chappelle's hands.

Like a breath on the wind, soft whispers from court jesters lend life lessons.
They know life lived is also life lessened.

Faith is not lost on lovers of comedy, one imparted:
"Why do folks live in Tornado Alley?
Because God will protect them?
Who do you think sent the tornado?"

Sick and twisted, and in-synch with what's sane,
Comedians light fires under complacent kindling, a calculated 'killing'.
Poignant and poisonous philosophers with a secret;
Some solace in this truth: it's all a joke.

And comedians are prophets, sitting on the rim of Gabriel's trumpet,
Glaring at the warning
Stirring in the angel's throat.

Laughing, they get it.
Unforgettable..

Symmetry

Caught between a rock and a hard place/
My fluid thoughts moving across this hard face/
I lost pace, trying to keep up the crimes/
And lost the race, didn't note the change in the times/

But as long as I've got my trench, gloves, and hat/
I strike fear in the city I love and that's that/
I put a bat to the back of these hoods, thugs and dregs/
Put crooked cops to sleep, drug dealers to bed/

First night on patrol, I remember he said:/
"I killed her, I need help, arrest me now!"/
My reply: "Men get help, dogs get put down."/
Put the knife to his head, my face splashed with red/

That night is known (for those who don't know that)
As the birth of Rorshach and the passing of Kovacs/
I detect with each step, my mind a cold ax/
My tactics help collect the cold facts/

The end is nigh - I can hear it coming/
Prostitutes lead the parade of politicians' procession/
The end is near - I can hear the drumming/
So I'm putting on my face: my city's ugly reflection/

A Poisoned Needle (when relationships fall through)

I should've left, turned around and walked/
But, I was convinced, everytime she talked/
That I was wrong, even when I was right/
I did what I could to avoid a fight/
'Cuz she was like, "What you do with your life?"
"All that poetry you spitting ain't buying you Nikes"/
"You ain't battling nobody, can't even say that you're nice"/

Had to stop her right there, before stuff got hectic/
She starts that sucking her teeth, rolling her neck shit/

(I'm like) why you gotta snuff this little light of mine?/
Always talking smack to your fam, ain't you tired of lying?/
Before you say another word, I'll keep it short and sweet/
We're breaking up: like an audit, here's my reciepts:/

You was mean, and it hurt me to try and be nice/
I know what you did with that dude that night, you left his kicks in the closet: all white Nikes/
Seven years wasted with you in my life/
You know, I'm real glad that we're having this fight/
'Cuz you was always wrong, even when you was right/
And I hope everytime we talk/
That you can see when I left, turned around and walked/

Look What It's Done

Now what am I supposed to do?/
When just seeing cops makes me emotional?/
I'm talking about the anger building/
When the cops post up outside your building/
Like they're waiting for action, something appealing/
One in the chamber, and no feelings/
No connections to the blocks they beat/
Don't ask why we don't respect cops we see/
Never mind the deaths, cover-ups, and dealings
Focus on the entrepreneurs and the beatings/
Cuz we can't chill up in a nice sedan/
When the police just locked up the Icee man/
It's, almost all good in the hood/
Til the cops get shook, and try to get you for good/
Slam you up against the car and push your face up on the hood/
Try to run away - they put two through your hood/
Then, two through your wrists, two through your kicks/
And put the passion of our youth on a crucifix/
Now, how am I supposed to be?
When the victims all look like you and me?/
What happened to serve and protect?/
Somebody's gotta pay, it's not over yet/

Marvelous vrs.2

I'm There and Back Again like Kurt Wagner, Bilbo/
Train in the Danger Room to get my skills up/
So lets have it, I move like Bets Braddock/
A rap addict, asthmatic with gills though/
I get it in like Frank Castle in kill zones/
If "snikt!" is the last thing you heard/
It's curtains for you, see "I'm a man of my word.."
Superb, super-hyper-combo/
Stop and gasp, I'm charging up the optic blast/
First Class, Xavier's school for the gifted/
So while you getting lite, these archangels get lifted/
And spread wings, don't sling rocks, we web sling/
Ghost Ride your whip like Blaze and Ketch/
Behind the back like Willie Mays amazing catch/
Yo, the blades in my fist will stain your chest/
But you living to tell the story will stain your rep/
Its Marvelous

Marvelous vrs.1

Who's trying to match wits with Doom Doc?
Correction, that's Doc Doom/
I'm Banner with the Gamma, and the strength to rock rooms/
I knock goons out with a right red hand/
Slice nice through your camp/
And then bounce like, "Bamf!"/
Tune into Cable and time-slide/
Ram3's a myth, I don't exist in your timeline/
Keep your five mics, my gauntlet is infinite/
Now who's a Beast and the real McCoy?/
Next generation's Last Dragon, I'm Jet Leroy/
So go ahead and test me boy/
My Sword of Omens will break through your Tiger Shulmann's/
My foes face Weapon-X components/
Healing factor, blades in the fist a bonus/
I've got a bright green ring, and some pissed opponents/