(Style: A heavy, head-bopping 90s East Coast boom-bap hip-hop beat laced with jazzy, out-of-tune piano loops and incredibly complex scratching. The groove is super tight and laid-back, but the lyrics, vocal delivery, and random cartoon sound effects make it completely bizarre and chaotic.) (Intro - A classic hip-hop record scratch: Chirp-scratch-chirp-wacka-wacka. A dusty, crackling vinyl beat kicks in with a heavy bassline. A smooth, laid-back MC voice speaks) "Yeah... Dropping some heavy knowledge. Well, actually... we dropped the knowledge down the drain. Can anyone lend us a flashlight?" [Verse 1 - Weird (Delivered in a super smooth, rhythmic hip-hop flow, but with complete physical confusion)] I woke up on the ceiling with my sneakers on my hands Trying to explain my trigonometry to frying pans I checked my driver's license just to see my own face But there was only a picture of a monkey in outer space My name is... uh... wait, let me check the sleeve of my coat Nope, just a shopping list and a picture of a goat! I’m rapping with a flow that is smoother than butter But I’m currently standing with my foot in the gutter Am I a genius? A doctor? A guy named Eugene? I’m just a ghost living inside of a vending machine! [Chorus - The beat gets even heavier with a funky, repeating horn loop and scratchy, pitched-up vocal cuts] Who am I? Who are you? We don't even know! We forgot our own names about three verses ago! Is it Weird? Is it Goofy? Is it Eminem's cousin? We’re buying cheap watches by the baker's dozen! Check the mic, check the brain, we’re completely erased The tightest hip-hop duo that was ever misplaced! [Verse 2 - Goofy (Delivered in a bouncy, off-beat, old-school hip-hop style, constantly tripping over the syllables)] Yo! I think my name is Ferdinand, or maybe it is Bob! I used to have a bicycle, I used to have a job! But now I’m spitting rhymes while I’m eating a shoe And I’m painting my entire living room baby blue! I wrote my social security number on a balloon And I let it go so it could fly to the moon! Now I don't exist! I’m a lyrical ghost! Just a guy who eats butter on some dry, cold toast! Whose track is this? Whose house is this? Who paid for the beat? I’m just gonna sit down right here in the street! [DJ Scratch & Kazoo Solo - A highly skilled hip-hop DJ starts scratching aggressively, but instead of scratching classic vocal samples, he is scratching the sound of a rubber duck squeezing, a sliding whistle, and a dizzying, funky kazoo run over a massive, booming bass drum] [Bridge - The beat strips down to just a ticking rimshot and a deep, pulsing bass] (Weird:) "Excuse me, do you have any identification?" (Goofy:) I have a library card with a picture of a potato. (Weird:) "...Good enough. Let's drop the chorus." [Chorus - The full, heavy boom-bap beat explodes back in with maximum swagger] Who am I? Who are you? We don't even know! We forgot our own names about three verses ago! Is it Weird? Is it Goofy? Is it Eminem's cousin? We’re buying cheap watches by the baker's dozen! Check the mic, check the brain, we’re completely erased The tightest hip-hop duo that was ever misplaced! [Outro - The beat slowly filters out, becoming muffled as if it's playing in another room. The record slows down drastically, pitching the voices and instruments way down into a sluggish, muddy crawl] (Deep, slowed-down voice:) "Wait... is my name... Steve?" (Squeaky, sped-up voice:) No, Steve is the guy who stole our lawnmower. "Ah... right." (The sound of a record needle being aggressively dragged across the vinyl with a loud SKRRRRT)
