Fame:
Am I a rapper, a clown, or american psycho?,
Maybe a mixture of all three, You decide who,
When you get hit in a drive by, by a guy in a clown mask,
Cruisin' in a uni-cycle,
Aimed at any rapper afraid and alarmed,
Blood stains on the microphone engraved in their arms,
So excited but I'm playin' calm,
Insert a cell phone in your stomach, and now they can call you the bomb,
After I install it, I have to fight a maniacal urge,
And wait for the right time to call it,
And then boom, Such an overpowerin' feelin',
What you think of as appallin' I call it appealin',
Psychotic mastermind, sick shit that I crave,
Laugh as the blood trickles then lick it off of my blade,
Got a twisted sense of humor, quit actin' amazed,
Geez, I swear no one can take a joke these days...

Chorus:
(Fame) If ya can't take a joke,
I'ma grab you by the throat and ask you (Why so serious?)
Let's play a game,
I'ma hide this bomb inside your frame (Why so serious?)
All of this blood I've spilled,
Wonder how many of your friends I've killed (Why so serious?)
Now you're almost out of time,
And I can see the look of fear in your eyes (Why so serious?)

Caliber:
Lookin' for semi-psychotic toxic lyrics? I got'em,
Oxycontin driven thoughts, anythin' liquid I shot it,
It's a habit like a rabid rabbit jackin' on anythin',
Brandin' my name in bitches, laughin' like they ask me,
No blasphemy, this pastor sees he's goin' to hell wit me,
And every whore can see I'm lookin' for diseases,
Please Jesus, let'em know I'm not bein' facetious,
I leave clean cuts when these critics hear us,
Infectin' every nerve in the cerebral cortex,
Yours next, shovin' pencil leads inside your head,
Leave your life up to a double sided coin,
I get excited for'em when I know they're gonna die for joy,
While you jump, I'ma slice your knee caps,
Wit three jabs to your back, you'll be slower than a Sleestak,
Please relax, it's all in fun and games,
Ya'll a bunch of lames, kneel down, talk to your fake god and pray...

Chorus