I got a new pen and paper, It sure has its uses! I use it to keep track Of my latest excuses, Like I went into the fight, Primed to dish out the harm, And I would if I hadn't, Broken my arm, Or my plan was to starch him, From the outset be bold, But my camp was destroyed, When I caught a bad cold, And that Fury was slippery, It makes my blood boil, That he came out to fight, Doused in baby oil, That's not to mention, That for the sport it be tragic, To allow the misuse, Of some strange gypsy magic, Still I'd finish him off, If I hadn't been scared, That my mighty right hand, Would leave him impaired, And I don't like complaining, But y'all know that it's wrong, To let him get away, With a count that was long, Last week's was the smog, In the LA atmosphere, Made it difficult to see, If he was far or near, And today I decided, That the fight felt too weird, As I'd been training to fight, A man with a beard, There's more on the way, Don't think that there's not, I can't box for ****, But excuses I got,
He'd knock everyone out, If he wasn't averse, To the karmic 'percussions, From da Yulaverse. He wants bodies on records, But wishes no harm, To his hard-fought opponents, That feel his right arm. It's a dangerous sport, As Adonis Stevenson found, Wilder don't want to hurt them, Just make dem seize on da ground. To let them leave the ring healthy, Is his number one aim, Or to leave on a stretcher, S'all part of the game. He'd knock everyone out, If he had the ability, But at two oh naahn, Logistical impossibility!
Funny that, I'm often being mistaken for being the better looking, smarter and slightly more talented brother of this Ali chap.
The world is in peril, Global warming is here, The oceans are rising, And so is our fear, When comes our saviour, From the US of A, It's Deontay Wilder, Who will save the day, For once advanced science, Is put to good use, We'll finally get energy, From a simple excuse, We can close down the coal mines, Give the climate a break, As Deontay can deliver, All the fuel we can take,