A Comedy

by Wolfman D



This is an EP of me celebrating my EMCEEness. It's actually pretty good. enjoy it.


released December 24, 2013



all rights reserved


Wolfman D Chicago, Illinois

One tepid morning in March of '94, Wolfman D was born Deon Varrod Morrissette in March Chicago, Illinois. He wrote and recorded his first rap for an assignment in english class when he was a high school junior. That song, "I'm Deon" became the first song on his first album that he originally sold to pay off his high school fees. He plays all of the instrumentals in his tracks. ... more

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Track Name: Too Soft
You're too soft,
I heard you get queasy watchin surgery
The nerve of ye'
Yeah, you been to jail, but just for purgery
You cant even lift my rhyme book
cause them bars are abounding
leavin rappers speechless
cause my speeches are dumbfounding

And I'm clownin' on these hounds
that be softer than a teddy bear
Call me claritin D
so my rhymes stay pretty clear
I'm hardcore
like a stale jawbreaker
You're faker than a 8 dollar bill
printed on recycled paper

I'm the flow god,
for you to be better is blasphemy
and heracy, I'll blow you into bits
Like I'm Master Chief
Its been a while
but these muscles never atrophy
I'll whip all these kids into shape,
Call me master D

You hatin' on it? Mad at me?
Stop it kid, you flatter me
I break knees, shatter dreams
Resort to teabagery
Your Dairy Queen Haggary
aint a damned match for me,
That ass is grass, you battle me
I'll School you rat bastards, G
You're too soft
You're like marshmallow fluff
stuffed with boiled cabage and
melted reeses cups
you'll get eatten up
by an old lady with no teeth or dentures
you're softer than the walls
in a mental health center

Yall niggas must be crazy,
thinkin' yall can faze me
devil's advocate suggests
that yall just deaf, dumb, and lazy
thinkin you hard cause you roll
with 9 or 10 of them
and out here slingin rocks
like an angry palastinian

Yall like,"yo, I got racks"
Nah, you got packs of soot
cause your cream burnt holes in
your pocketbook
outhere actin bold and brash
writin checks with your mouth
that I collect and have to cash at your ass
with my foot

look, by hook or by crook
I got you niggas shook
kidnap your candy ass
and drown you in a brook
attackin every angle, corner,
cranny and knook
but I'm only throwin' jabs,
cause you cant handle a hook,
You're too soft
you're charmin mixed with cottonelle
in a bathtub of backrubs, baby shit,
rotten smellin
fresh cake, landolakes butter
and a mandate that we should preach for peace in middle east
for fellow man's sake

packin' pieces
claimed you're raised by the streets
but get put in the heat
and show you're bred by the yeast
I'm not one to spray gats
but to meley with tact,
Dont judge this book by the cover
til you read whats on its back

Got stacks of fat knowledge
Spewin cold hard facts
like i'm hailin out my mouth
and you're caught in a trap
get locked on by the bull horns
and you then get gored
all you whores thinkin' I'm easy work,
thats cheese on a board

and you get snapped on
Runnin' your yap knowing
you're low hanging fruit for the weakest
to snack on
step half correct to my scripts
for a lyrical goring
cause my songs are like oil drills
they're long and they're boring
Track Name: Shameless
Been shameless since
a nigga doo doo-ed his dookey drawers
so he aint afraid to harass dames
for a booty call
whether they reject him
or tell him to hit it raw
lucky for him,
he's too ugly to catch cootey balls

captured the rat pack
chillin in his backpack
takin naps before he
raps it up to meet the clap cat
scary hairy from his face
past his nad sack
even since he had them rolls
of infantile back fat

plays in the mud
covered in the scud
but wont get pushed by peers
to indulge in foamy mugs
He think he bullet proof
aloof when he's in the booth
Yet knows he's the shit
like Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poop
other obsticals be oversites
they ask you, let them know
his prose explodes like dolemite
complaints of the hanus tricks
cant tame this
defamation of the famous,
he's too shameless

Sho-You right
you know his raps are air tight
known to be able to rock the mic
to in the air tonight
Its a shame
he's the opposite of famous
wait a minute no it aint
he's too shameless
He plays tricks
yall think he real, but he be jokin, yall
you think the water he chugged
was isopropanol?
lighter to his mouth
still spit fire
holy water in his solo
he stay preachin to the choir

she sweat her perm out
though she know its none of her concern
faintin from the germs
when he opens his can of worms
fishin for insults
when he throws the hook out
angry with the schools rules
so he throw the book out

he need a look out
everytime he use the portojohn
he tips it over
then escapes the scene via portal gun
while most people waste time
with inner modacity
this kid has the capacity
to make his audacity

opaque, its a tragety
how shame dictates life
sometimes drive people
to self-harm by the knife
or beatin their wife
or bullets to heads
of innocent kids
they layin dead full of lead

but not him

other obsticals be oversites
they ask you, let them know
his prose explodes like dolemite
complaints of the hanus tricks
cant tame this
defamation of the famous,
he's too shameless

Sho-You right
you know his raps are air tight
known to be able to rock the mic
to in the air tonight
Its a shame
he's the opposite of famous
wait a minute no it aint
he's too shameless
Track Name: The Albatross
I'm so nasty on the mike
When I grab that you like
The way I hand you a vice
Then jack up the price
Then they ask if I'm nice
I leave them with lice
Suffice it to say
I'm iller than the dudley death device

I'm so dope,
I give weedheads the munchees
crackheads a bum knee,
I'm banned in 30 countries
cause trust me, if you touch me
I'll rearange your face like
a plastic surgeon
who cant use precision blades right

you dont beef, yo punk ass
need a diet of
steamed leafy greens
cause you cant ingest this riot
of solid beats
and hot spicy bars of words,
fuck what you heard, you think you the shit?
I must be 2 turds

spittin slurs
like a klansman in the fifties
cut off your hands
cause your mans lookin shifty
fuck up your plans
unexpectantly precipitate
you fuckin with the illest artist
ever to illustrate

you worn out
like a rag at a laundromat
you aint ill,
you just think you're sick like hypocondriacs
i break your teeth
you weak like centenarians
my archives turn rap geniuses
to librarians

My rhymes burn like a perm,
I'm like a street chemist
lacing my dope rhymes with sherm,
to get them hatin on me
they try to take me for my bread
I get the skatin on them
they style so dead
i gotta use carbon dating on them

hop in the gym
to practice my rhyme tactics
i'm lighting em up like match sticks
i'm grindin em up like cat bits
to feed to my carnivorous
cactus you what you lookin at?
think i'm crooked, but sane
I'm straight bat shit

crazy like I'm on daisy
while myrtle watchin me swayin this lady
i knock her boots
then get ghost like patrick swayze
with clay, moldin my verse in her hands
they askin me bout my plans?
my rhymes hit like gamma-rays
stereo tactic

precision, I'm on a mission
to make them mad when they listen
i'm kickin them in the shins
to tell the doc, they got 10 in pain
then I score 10 in the paint
to get so hot that you faint
you tryin to get out the game
I'm so didactic

You rang? you got 7 days to live
but i'm like god to these demons
pots and pans to the greens
if you know what i mean
Without me, you just mad lost
you double crossin the masses
to get your freedom for free
I'm your albatross