VERSE 1:
I must admit I didn’t plan this theme too well,
‘Cause I scheduled the rapping during the week of hell,
And now I’m up against it and this rhyming won’t gel,
Aw, hell, I gotta tell you why this is so pell-mell.

So I got home from my classes last evening, right?
And I’m starting to relax with the weekend in sight,
And then I realize, “Crap! It’s Thursday night!
Gotta write, or I might just fail, and time is tight!”

So I sat at my computer, started writing fast
And looking for ideas from my two raps past
And thinking that this current one might be my last
As the dastardly master of rhyming that’s half-assed.

CHORUS 1:
It’s my 24-hour rap,
And I feel kinda like a sap,
‘Cause I know it’s gonna sound like crap.
This was slapped in my lap, I just wanna take a nap!

And I don’t know how this’ll end.
Rhyming dictionary is my friend.
And the amount of time I spend
Will depend on the rendering speed of what I send.

VERSE 2:
So, I have to admit that I’m having this fear
Of just using all the rhymes from my rap last year,
Which may very well earn me many a jeer.
I should steer plenty clear of that rap. (Or so I hear.)

But you have to understand, let me explain, please.
I can only rhyme so many words with ease
Without offending grammar and syntax Nazis.
Aw, geez! It’s unfeasible! Really, can’t you sees?

But here I am, I’m trying, and for better or worse,
I’m just about to finish up the second verse.
Though I wish I’d had a little more time to rehearse,
But let’s nurse this curse, and then let it all disperse.

CHORUS 2:
It’s my 24-hour rhyme,
And it really should be a crime,
‘Cause I know it’s far from sublime.
I would climb from this slime, but I just don’t have the time.

And I don’t know where this’ll land,
But it’s probably pretty bland.
I’m just a geek from marching band.
You should stand and demand that my rapping should be banned.

VERSE 3:
Okay, I have a confession to make:
This rap’s content is all a big fake,
It’s a scam, it’s a sham, the time it did take,
But make no mistake, this was not a piece of cake.

Last week, this would have been perfectly true.
I just had so much non-rap-able stuff to do.
And I didn’t want to come up with anything new,
And who but a few could ever say they knew?

I really hope this fact will not give you grief.
Just try and willingly suspend your disbelief.
I hope you won’t consider me a petty thief.
But relief! We will briefly be done. So there’s no beef.

VERSE 4:
So back to our story, lie that it may be,
I’m still spewing useless rhymes, as you can see,
And I know I’ll have to end this all eventually,
And flee shamelessly, so my viewers won’t hurt me.

But not to worry, listeners, we’re almost done.
There are only four verses, and this is the last one.
And then one more chorus, and this horrid rap is spun.
What fun! Let the shunning begin! Oh, it’s begun.

You’re wondering when I’ll finish this, I suppose.
And any further rapping you are sure to oppose.
I’ve had more than enough of this, Heaven knows,
I propose that I mosey and bring this rap to close.

CHORUS 3:
It’s my 24-hour song,
And by now, you can hum along
But I think I should say “So long.”
Why prolong any longer when it is clearly wrong?

And I don’t know how this turns out,
Not like something to write home about,
Unless this rap has got some clout,
Which I doubt. So I’ll shout, “D-F-T-B-Sah, I’m out!”