Yo, it’s the Madd to the Sceizzer/
Soon-to-be older than a geezer/
Down with Rach-ho but he tease her/
Fuck wit him, you’ll be tucked in a freezer/
Whatever, I don’t write rhymes, I fuck minds up. I thought your birthday was the 27th, Scientist, but Amanda insisted it was the 17th. She knows you better than me; whatchu doin’ tonight? Wish I could be there; the sceizzer birthday only comes once a year.