Intro – Whispered over dramatic beat]
They told me art was dead…
So I traced its body…
MC Escher, baby.
Sketchy as f**.*
[Verse 1]
Born in a loop, in a paradox maze,
Mama screamed, “This baby’s got impossible ways!”
Suckin’ titty while drawin’ infinity,
Shit got weirder than Salvidor Dali virginity.
Banged my first milf in a tessellation,
She came four times – no explanation.
My soul’s a Möbius strip with a twist,
I jerk off to geometry with the existentialist twist
I got stairs goin’ up, down, left, and horny,
My mind’s so bent, they call it “Escher-porny.”
Had a show in the Louvre, but got more play
As a poster in Chad’s dorm next to Pulp Fiction and Marley.
[Chorus – Hypnotic and over-the-top]
🎵 I’m MC Escher, sketchy as f**,*
Draw, sketch, fetch, mutt—
I’m a dead lead, heragraphotite butt slut!
Lines so twisted, I got girls cryin’,
“Damn, is that a dick or a duck? I’m tryin’!”
MC Escher, drawin’ hellish loops—
And I still get laid in optical groups. 🎵
[Verse 2]
You ever 69 in an impossible cube?
I did, last week—girl vanished in a nude rube.
I ain’t abstract, I’m abstrash,
Spray-painting chaos on a Kardashian’s ass.
Perspective? F*** it, I skew that logic,
Your girl calls me “recursive,” I’m psych-erotic.
Staircases to nowhere, just like my trust issues,
I ghost ‘em mid-stroke—leave ’em crying into tissues.
I taught Magritte how to deep-throat thoughts,
Surreal with appeal, I connect those dots.
Every line I draw’s a sexual puzzle,
My nuts drop harder than a Matisse scuffle.
[Bridge – Spoken word, serious tone]
I wanted to be in a gallery.
I wanted to make people weep with awe.
But instead…
I’m in a bathroom stall,
Right next to a Banksy…
Getting huffed by a guy named Paul.
[Final Chorus – Chanted by choir of stoned art majors]
🎵 I’m MC Escher, sketchy as f**,*
Draw, sketch, fetch, mutt—
I’m a dead lead, heragraphotite butt slut!
Put me on your coffee table, treat me like décor,
But I’ll be sketchin’ your mom on that spiral floor!
MC Escher—no end, no start,
Just a dick-shaped dragon made of fractal art! 🎵
⸻
[Outro – Softly, with echo and a trap beat fading]
So if your vision’s melting,
And your thoughts feel corrupt…
It’s just me,
MC Escher…
Sketchy as fuuuuuuck.