Life According to Wolfman D

by Wolfman D


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: Breakfast
I'm makin Breakfast (etc.)

Niggas walk upto me and
They sayin' ish that's reckless
I say "you must be crazy,
or you didnt eat yo' breakfast"
I'll grab you by the necklace
It's too late to form a treaty
Chop you open, look inside you
See, you didn't eat your Wheaties

Hallow as a hollow gram
following the hollow man
Kevin's Bacon's what you'll be chasin'
until tomorrow's planned
Hungry and deplaned
you livin' in abject squalor
I have the hungry wretchedness
payin' their dying dollar

for these rhymes
I got the hippies at the whole foods
swayin' back and forth
like some fairies to some show tunes
I got flows like silk
and they go great on the plate
next to cereal and milk

I'm makin' breakfast (etc.)

Shout out to the lunch table
and the Chmakahoe tribe
I'm chief spicy buffalo
they helped me stay alive
I got the skill to kill
Avoid being lynched and boast
"You let him get away, Cleatus!
What the french, toast?""

coast to coast, I'm comatose
my flows are automatic
like the AK47 I found
up in Hitler's attic
I'm known to make soft skinned niggas
whine (wine) like grapes
And I'm known to make soft core niggas
flatter than crepes

I walk with abnormality
'cause i'm gimpy in the left leg
You walk like that because you missed
your coffee steak and eggs
I have a bowl of oatmeal forst I wear you out
like rags

"He got bananas in his pancakes!!!! WHAT A FAG!!!" -Bill Burr
Track Name: Serve Somebody
Who wants to step to me?
I've got a secret recipe
To battle anybody in the crowd
Trying to heckle me
Step away from the mike
Lest ye be cursed with leprosy
And start cleaning toilets
In the barracks for some extra cheese

I'm an artist
who's known to scar folks
when I get into detail
And stop speaking in broad strokes
Chops that ass
Like karate
If you keep hating on me
That's all right but I'm gonna have to serve somebody

Walk up in my place
And I'm dressed kind of classy
Step up in my face,
You get served something nasty

You don't want to battle me
Mc booty; I bust that
Don't touch that
My rhymes have rabies like lyrical muskrats
Think you're a rebel?
I leave rappers disheveled
Dazed in the basement
While I'm on the top level

They revel and sulk
I heavily pedal my hulk-
esque ego, keeping MCs
Steadily shook
Got crooks in every little cranny and knook
I roll by, then throw in the hook
Make sure they heard how
I'm gonna have to serve somebody

Walk up in my place
And I'm dressed kind of classy
Step up in my face,
You get served something nasty

You don't want beef,
You're a vegetarian... Really
You'll get sliced, diced and served
In vegetarian chilly
I got carnivorous flows,
You're out the chopped liver bin
I eat MCs on beats (beets) in these streets
I'm out to kill again

Confidence will disapear
So mysterious
Rhymes so weird, you won't believe your eyes
'Cause I'm the eeriest (ear-iest)
Not the type to be jaded
Because I'm hated on,
But the next dude I find hating
is getting waited on
An I'mma serve somebody