Clint Eastwood - Gorillaz, Jamie Hewlett

«Yo.

Yo.

Yo.»

'Cause I’m this, Gorillaz from the mist

lyricist and my thoughts be twisted.

I spit the wickedest rhymes from a time that’s never existed.

My futuristic linguistics turn fools into statistics

I’m a lyrical misfit with a sadistic characteristics

I perform murderous acts on my tracks with a single breath and if a boy wanfa

test, then I be stampin' upon his chest.

Done makin' a mess

not a man could conceive the weed I’m consumin' and I transform from my cartoon

pseudonym, turn to a human.

I spit words from my mouth that be turnin' you inside out and I tie knots in intestines just like I’m a boy scout that’s workin' 'em out

Now rearrangin' your whole skeletal structure then I find some nine inch nails

to perform some acupuncture

When I punch ya, I rupture all of your ribcage in a rage and I turn you into a cartoon too then erase the page

I take you back to the stone age with Barney and Fred Flintstone

Get Dino to take a machinos and then force you to live home

I’ma take off like a jet pack better get back, rather step back.

I’ma make the crowd react and nod they heads until they neck snap

Life can flip raps while riding a skateboard and doin' a tic-tac and leave your

head in a spin like staring at turn table skid mats.

I’m a concrete lion, big cat.

This is real talk, not big chat.

Did ya get that 'cause I ain’t no small timer.

I rhyme on big tracks.

Now feel the vibes I create.

This heavyweight, I’m about to detonate and

demonstrate how I generate lyrics that supernaturally levitate to the top.

My lyrics escalate,

Accelerate and leave you panickin',

Take the ground from beneath your feet, leave you Skywalk-in' like Anakin.

I’m sharper than the tips of Zulu spears and Olympic javelins.

My style is totally buck wild and most definitely happenin'.

To your brains I be tappin' in, to computers I be hackin' in.

To me, I be out of this world like aliens who were time travelin'.

I’m dabblin' in the Fists of Fury technique when I speak.

Forget Karate Kid and these wooden blocks, I chop from concrete.

Concrete, concrete, concrete!

Wha-wha-well-well-wha-well!

I’be been stoned;

ever since the days of creation,

I’ve been red.

I’m a mad dred, causin' so much havoc in Russel’s head.

My lyracism is just like an aneurysm inside his brain.

He plays the beat in a trance and he’s never feeling no pain.

I could never be a racist because I posess so many faces.

I’m one of those beat-up bad wit' bags and a pair of braces with lines longer

than laces.

I’m gracin' you with my presence.

The lyrics went flippin', makin' ya bubble like effervescence.

I pulverize and bamboozle, shake numb skulls like a boodle.

I smashed the top of your head with a guitar I borrowed from Noodle.

I’m as animated as Japanese animes causin' callamities.

Some serious savory from my roarous rhymes of reality.

At the speed of sound, I’m wanderin' around.

The clown done tried to defeat us without

tenacities or audacity.

Don’t you ever thought you could beat us.

Beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us,

beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us,

beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us, beat us…