Oh he's a smooth cat alright. You ever met a man soooo smooth he makes INThat’s him, baby. He don’t walk — he PUBLISHES! He’s got a typewriter for a head and a soul full of funk. When he talks, syntax takes a back seat to.... sexy. They call him … P...O...E...T ,,, Poet! He’s got a typewriter head and rhythm in his pants, A thunderous pen, droppin’ funk in advance. The man don’t type — he conjures and crafts, Bendin’ language till it starts to gasp. With verse in his blood and truth in his tone, When Poet talks, the lonely don’t feel so alone. Every line a prophecy, each word an omen — He performs miracles in Times New Roman. He don’t need no crown, no fame, no cash, Just a cigarette, a notebook, and a little bit o’ sass. So if you hear that clackin’ in the dead of night, That’s Poet, baby — bringin’ funk to the fight. DJ of emotion, master of the mic, Got that Bukowski bite and that Larkin-like strike. Office supply by day, disco poet by night, Flirtin’ in the moonlight — oh, he’s polite. Says “sweetheart,” with a wink and a line, Sees the pointin’ finger, then exclaims, “you’re mine!” Talkin’ ’bout Poet! Poet! (Say his name, say his name baby!) Talkin’ ’bout Poet! Poet! (Ooh, he spins those groove’s so crazy!) Click-clack rhythm, sweet temptation, Words so fine they need translation. Talkin’ ’bout Poet! Poet! (Type it slower, sugar!) Talkin’ ’bout Poet! Poet! (Let that bar get thicker!) His verse is smooth and his rhymes could kill, Slicker than a salesman at an oil spill. he Charms with his tongue all slow and warm, Sounds like sweet tea in the human form. He lays it on thicker than biscuit gravy, he Lickin’ those vowels like— huh huh huh honey and bay ay ay bee. When he says “Sweetheart,” , all the stars realign, 'Ol Cupid himself cannot top that line. [music drops to drums and bass groove] Narrator: Who’s got ink and coffee in his veins? POET! Narrator: Who’s smoother than silk and twice as strange? POET! Narrator: Who’s that guy with the click-clack brain? POET! Narrator: Who brings funk to this X Spaces train? POET! Narrator Now whisper it … poet Now shout it ! POET Now spell it with your hips, baby — P! O! E! T! POET! (Command of the word!) Click-clack hero, his truth is heard. POET! (Heart of gold!) Too smooth for paper, too hot to fold. POET! (Honey Bun Aces) He’s my late-night savior on these X spaces. POET! (Oh, can’t you see?) He’s the lyrical Avenger for humanity. Poet! Poet! (Say his name, baby!) Poet! Poet! (Click-clack hero, save me!)
