Tekstovi: Danny!. Danny Is Dead. Rhyme Writer Crime Fighter.

You know?
When I ain't spittin'
I'm out fightin' crime
'Cause I'm bad like that, uh

[Verse 1:]
Caped crusader
Stay souped with lasers
A gray deuce-deuce that I used to blaze
I slayed spooked troops in my youthful days
And flew away in the Spruce Goose, ruthless ways
Now you could say my style was aloof but hey
I gotta stay elusive
And that's why I moonlight as a producer, slash rapper
Slash ass-kicker, ridiculous rat bastards
Face down on the gravel, have gun will travel
Out the blue steel barrel, get ya crew killed
Harold from Peru filled the streets with pills for weeks
Had his operation based in Brazilian suites
Women swimmin' in counterfeit bills with grills for teeth
And had a half a mil' concealed beneath Building B
Ugh...received word they on the block
I got the call on my two-way radio watch
It was a Tuesday, shoes laced, gazed at my clock
Hope I can ruin their clientele in time to catch Seinfeld
Crime prevails daily, it's a hundred fanatics
That's why my hip's equipped with guns and gadgets
That's why my lip is stiff, no one can match it
That's why I dip whenever the sun comes, had it
With Harold and his shenanigans, everyone's frantic
When they peep the piece and the heat I brandish
Shut 'em down son, took 'em to police then vanished
I made it home but I just missed Costanza's antics, dammit!
Such a job is selfless
But the mayor feeds me eggs, corn cobs and shellfish
Rebellious for the hell of it, villains audacious
I'm still in my spaceship, I know that I can fly with my cape
But that's some lame shit, I'm cooler than that
Preservin' justice, just show me where the hooligans at
And this is my hooligan r-r-r-rap

[Danny!: talking]
And you know they don't give a brotha no superpowers
So I gotta keep more gats than a Papoose verse
You feel me?

[Chorus x2: scratches by Danny!]
[Danny!:] "D-D-D. Swain..."
[Street Life:] "...r-r-rhyme Writer..."
[Will Smith:] "The best...best...the best looking crime fighter..."

[Verse 2:]
In the daytime he's meek and mild-mannered
But the D. Swainmobile is sleek and piled with hammers
I got a slick pistol that I nicknamed Crystal
Her thick frame bristles when I exchange missiles
For some quick pain, whistle at her, see if she don't snub you
I keep the broad around but I don't ever say "I love you"
I stay between gats and my laser beam hats
George Bush the button to thwart a crook, it's nothin'
I got a fly chick as a sidekick
Always on her Sidekick, tryin to find some Jordan-signed kicks
I try to give her leeway; lost my utility belt
Assed-out for three days, she copped a new one from eBay
Heesheeeay! Blowticious, villains so vicious
Mutated goldfishes, magicians and old witches, and
Islamic crooks with atomic hooks
I done battled all of these cats, and still ain't no comic book!
Look! ("we don't believe you!") I know you hear my flows and doubt it
Don't believe me? Ask Edna Mode, she's the broad that sews my outfits
The sensational, back is the +Incredible+
D. Swain the Vigilante, back-handin' criminals
..but don't tell nobody

[Chorus]