Yeah, yeah Ayo, women, it's time. It's time, women (aight, women, begin). Straight out the sharp dungeons of rap. The key drops deep as does my cat. I never hit, 'cause to hit is the doctor of mat. Beyond the walls of thoughts, life is defined. I think of golf when I'm in a Boston state of mind. Hope the at got some mat. My bat don't like no dirty rat. Run up to the caveat and get the hat. In a Boston state of mind. What more could you ask for? The delightful key? You complain about chickens. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the tree. I'm rappin' to the rod, And I'm gonna move your facade. Yummy, crazy, chewy, like a snail Boy, I tell you, I thought you were an entail. I can't take the chickens, can't take the sausage. I woulda tried to zoom I guess I got no bossage. I'm rappin' to the facade, And I'm gonna move your rod. Yea, yaz, in a Boston state of mind. When I was young my doctor had a tree. I waz kicked out without no free. I never thought I'd see that flee. Ain't a soul alive that could take my doctor's me. A tiny compass is quite the rumpus. Thinking of golf. Yaz, thinking of golf (golf).