She's gonna be my cock professor/
Studying my dick/
She's gonna get a master's degree in fuckin' me/
I can do so many things/
With my own bare hands.

The menstrual cycle changes among Hassidic Jewish women was something as well.

Biggie Smalls is the wickedest
Niggas say I'm pussy? I dare you to stick your dick in this
If I was pussy I'd be filled with syphillis
Herpes, gonorrhea, chlamydia, gettin rid of ya
Got it locked like the penitentiary
Niggas mention me for M.C. execution, who you choosin?
The wack MC? Or the black fat MC?
Jack Dempsey would start shakin
All it's takin, is some marijuana and I'm makin
MC's break fast like flapjacks and bacon
Backspins to windmill, who's still the gin drinker
Ill thinker - explodin when the paper hits the ink, uhh
Take your gangsta chronicles, turn to page 666
Holocaust, Big the merciless
Niggas press they luck-and they get a buttfuck-in
Straight up the ass, raw dog with the rash
And I don't fuck wit the condoms
The condoms is a problem from the AIDS gettin sprayed
Diseases, Big pleases, MC's across the seas
Is just the way I clutch my prey, hey
I'm crazy and deranged
Blowin niggas out the frame, simple and plain
But gettin back, to the black, rhinocerous of rap
Big took a loss, how preposterous is that nigga?
Recognize.. notorious Biggie Smalls, ninety-four, "Ready to Die"

Les Grobstein's huge hog is proof that God has a sense of humor, isn't it?

[Verse One]
Lyrically articulating, ventilating my mental state when
My cerebrum, [commemmorates?] towards your freedom
Absorb the serum
Mentally, essentially, meant to be, mental
Experimental cerebellum, souped with lyrical lentils
Imperial bicentennial, perennial [think?] is illin'
Silhouetted by mystical shadows
My mind's the penicillin
Verbal verbal surgery, all over your lyrical perjury
My brain-stem, brain's phlegm
Mystical magical mercenary

[Verse Two]
For my breakfast cereal? Ate miracle lyrical Cheerios
So here we go unto more physical mystical cerebral [travel ??]
A habitat causes [the moon gravel?]
[??? the stun]
My larynx never has cackling babble, the lyrical Korn
[??]
I'm the lyrical Genghis Khan
I mean the spiritual Angus Young
I mean physical [in??] King Kong
I got my pen [like? short stop? ??? and then be gone]
I'm slappin' suckers silly with the wave of my mystical wand

[Verse Three]
I'm a mental stockbroker, no one's liver in the cipher
Pass the [under?] lighter, to make my mental state higher
An eternal verbal whirlwind intertwined in the mind
Paradox and paradigms, and paragraphs, I'm nice with mine
Lyrically gifted, scientific producers
So peep the mental erosion, when I verbally roast kids
Dictating my scriptures with a whimsical brain pattern
Lighting lanterns in caverns on the rings of fucking Saturn

[Verse Four]
I write rhymes that are mesmerizing
I'm in outer space there's no horizon
You're mental's on a lower plane where you can't even maintain
Where my mental's on the highest plane
Where, where I'm looking at the lyrical sapiens
I'm the evolution is like a revolution
So fuck the Constitution
My mental blocks have barriers like Roman times
The Guatemalerans hollering "free your mind"
It's kind of cosmic the way I rhyme
I'm ready for space travel
When I hear the chimes, spherical winds, like tornadoes
I saw you, [excuse so?] happen in Barbados
Blame it on times [I travel?]
So perhaps blame it on me
'Cause I've seen some philosophies of 1833
I've seen Moses part the sea
I've seen Hercules lift the world
I've seen the molecular structure of a squirrel
On Mars...
I've witness also... and I've also ... witnessed ...
Lyrical fitness

Les Grobstein's huge hog is proof that God has a sense of humor, isn't it?