leggo my eggo ya preggo cravin’ wierd shit like a lego block castle o’ locked tassles and vassals slavin’ oer barley and chris farley the late harley quinn o’ gin and tonic—the sonic chronic—sounds be smokin’ that shit and they’re ON IT, the varlet, the wabbit, the “hand it to the bandit,” sweet gambit pays off a habitual turandot like nothin’ and shit…
leggo my eggo! leggo my eggo! sittin’ on that stoop I’ll strike ya down wit some thunder—aint you doubtin’ I got thunder I got thunder thunder thunder (kinda realizes hes losin’ it here so it tapers off, not that intense, comical) so leggo dat eggo before (slight hestitation kinda thing, talking pretty much normal here cause he realized he lost it I guess) I get all annoyed and stuff, man. (should probably edit the second leggo my eggo and on. Its bad, but it should be entertaining bad, not bad bad)
(conversation here. eventually…)
And you know why?
There ain’t no gravity in the ghetto! (refrain)
