Mike the Owl

 
Who’s that on the mic?  
Ooh! It’s Mike the Owl!  
And if you ask what’s he like –  
I’d say with a growl that fowl is foul!  
 
He doesn’t speak much but on the microphone his beak can spit a sick beat,  
Many times he has shown his rhythm and rhymes are a hoot and an absolute treat,  
I’m talon you he’s like a beast released in the wild the way he feasts on emcees who’ve tried,  
Because with one fell swoop he’ll whoop some ass then you too will be left wide eyed.  
 
Mike the owl will look at you with a scowl and straight up ask if you want to rap battle,  
It’d be better now to throw in the towel or else you’ll howl when you begin to feel death’s rattle,  
He’s a wise old bird because his words will get the ladies in the audience roused up and stirred,  
And if you don’t hear him coming it’s because his stealth wings are meant to be unheard.  
 
He’s a savage killer, like a guerilla, but man he can drop a mad bass in your face like a bad villain,  
He’s a deadly hunter of the night who can assassinate one minute and the next be straight chillin’,  
His bars are fire, like two hundred seventy degrees of hot rounds sure to make you perspire,  
Mike is usually on the prowl but on the mic he’s an owl you’ll come to love and admire.