VERSE ONE
Roll up, roll up, weâre about to begin,
Like we do it every night weâre going to do it again.
My name is Fabian how yâall doing tonight,
Iâm a ringmaster in the floating circus of light.
I donât need a chair or whip to control the show,
Just my troupe to keep the beat while I deliver my flow.
You know what, this big top is about to explode,
So no further introduction we are green for go.
On the mike, its John Mayer MC,
I wonât bash other Aussies like Bayer or Ottke.
But in this game thereâs no denying Iâm a player you see,
So cool you better grab another layer or three.
He won the prize for torts - it means that Iâm the smartest,
I make other Aussie rappers look absolutely harmless,
And charmless, but I know their wits arenât the sharpest,
So I cut them some slack because theyâre trying their hardest.
CHORUS
Itâs Frang-i, Frangipani!
Like the X-Men our skills on the mic are uncanny,
Unstoppable with NPG in toe,
Enough interlude get back to the show.
VERSE TWO
We own Aussie hip-hop for the next hour youâve got a rental,
Tracks coming express like theyâre on the oriental.
If youâve seen our show before you know itâs monumental,
But if itâs your first time I promise weâll be gentle.
Rapping is a religion to us people we're like the Hill-Song Hoods,
So gather round our krunking cloister because our god is good.
Sip Jesus juice, get loose, work up a dance floor sweat,
Or roll our record on repeat when playing Vatican roulette.
Between my show and your mood thereâs a tangible nexus,
Iâll electrify you like a rapist in Texas.
My raison dâetra is to get ya busting out on the floor,
Until then Iâll keep pestering like Peter Hoare.
At times my rhymes can be reckless like a Morley swinging arm,
But come on fellas, you know I donât mean any harm.
And ladies, I know you think about me when youâre lying in bed,
Because my words are smoother than George Greganâs head.
CHORUS
Itâs Frang-i, Frangipani!
Like the X-Men our skills on the mic are uncanny,
Unstoppable with NPG in toe,
Enough interlude get back to the show.
BRIDGE
Oi stop, hold on for a sec!
I need to educate these people as to what happens next.
You see if Frang starts tapping...
And Force gets axing...
And Handsome resumes scratching...
And Bean starts slapping...
Then somethingâs going to happen,
Iâll start rapping with a passion thatâll put you in a flap,
And youâll start dancing in a fashion that is energy sapping!
VERSE THREE
Iâve got so many rhymes I should be called Leanne,
Producing regular flows like Iâm on lyrical bran.
Without the mike in my hand Iâm unhappy like Jan,
Iâm no good at boxing or footy but on stage Iâm the man.
Public interestâs accrued since we made our debut,
Reaching epidemic proportions like the Asian bird flu.
Talking ourselves up our circus skills can be a Catch-22,
But then again itâs not really bragging if its true.
This is J.M.M.C
Winding it down for Frangipani.
Driven on by the beats of NPG,
But I canât sign off without my boy Flashy.
Forget Moscow or Du Solei when weâre around,
The Magnificent Seven is going to break this shit down,
Weâre on a hip hop trapeze weâve got no room for clowns,
Frangipani is the only circus in town!
CHORUS x2
Itâs Frang-i, Frangipani!
Like the X-Men our skills on the mic are uncanny,
Unstoppable with NPG in toe,
Enough interlude get back to the show.