I consider myself as having a knack for this type of thing, so over the next few days I jotted down a line here and there, making slow and steady progress. Eventually, I decided to sit down and just write the damn thing. Well, I failed. Kinda.
Basically, Jay Electronica's flow on Exhibit C is so bananas that it turned the entire project into some type of overwhelming ordeal, which I was completely unprepared for. Also, my love for Jersey Shore and my insistence on working "...excluded from chicken cutlet night", "Don't let the spiked hair fool ya, I'm not a bitch" and other classic lines into this complicated rhyme scheme almost drove me to insanity.
Long story short, I'm not the rap parody guru I thought I was. In retrospect, I should've just rolled with "Oh Let's Do It". 50% more fun and 120% easier to parody.
If you love both Jersey Shore and Exhibit C, hopefully you can appreciate what I attempted to do here.
Without further ado, I present you the completed half of the abandoned - Exhibit Creep.
Original Song, Jay Electronica - Exhibit C (produced by Just Blaze):
(Click here to read the actual Exhibit C lyrics)
Exhibit C Instrumental:
Exhibit Creep Lyrics:
I love to juice up while i train,
Gym, tan, laundry daily even in the rain
catch me creepin on chicks, i don't even need their names
use tons of hair spray and gel just to tame my mane
grab the boys, gear up, hit the boardwalk, lay down game
and try to dodge grenades
talkin pure creep mode
yo watch me do my thing
the folks at MTV
finally called my name
telling me one day i'll be beating up the beat in Seaside Heights, Jersey Shore with my bros and getting paid
and fighting every dude who looks at me the wrong way
I ain't believe it then.
but bro I was jobless
drinking, lifting weights, bussing tables at Carrabba's
now we hit the boardwalk, other dudes is gettin nada
and tell em "Come at me bro!" if they are looking for a problem
"we run the god damn shore. Where you come from?"
we're here to party, creep, drink basically have fun
"Hmmm... its so amazing that i smush like i do
dodge grenades like i do, spit my game to your boo
fall in love at the shore - i'll never do
don't dare me, Ed Hardy be the underweary
my rosary chain'll make non-catholics say a hail mary
the Jersey Shore is where we're living
place is sick, hot tub... full kitchen
chicks in and out, plus whoever Snooks is kissin.
While y'all debated who got laid and who really didn't
I was at Beachcombers, Bamboo, Karma
the boardwalk, the boulevard, straight close the bar up
3 am, 4 am, yo... pull the car up
Where guidos really wait for a moment to fist pump
when a hot tracks on, you know what to do, grab all of your boys and beat up the beat like "what's up?"
take your girl, date your girl, erase your girl, tough luck.
If your friend ain't cute you probably shouldn't bring her.
You look real good and you play the part well, but the energy you givin off is real stage five clinger
And that's it.