The Gift Rap Saga continues. Mike fires back at Talon. It’s a strong blast straight to the heart. Jim sings/raps like a girly-man. Kevin goes too far. Sam shirtless… great choice–just the right amount of awkward. Beware, there are F-bombs and the crudeness of young men asserting their new-found manliness.


Talon wake up, it’s your birthday bro
Everybody in the car like the Fifth Mambo
Time to celebrate time for us to show
How much we love you dude, the big Bigelow
Anyone can see that your gonna go far
above par, you are, not an old lady driver
No matter how life gets, or how hard it seems
The hatches are open, to your dreams

You’re the Michael to my Bluth
You’re the fairy to my tooth
You’re the tony to my stark
Boy you’re gonna make a mark
You’re the Judy to my judge
You’re the Stephanie to my Pudge
You’re the tie to my suit
And I’m always watching over you

Talon you my boo, I just don’t wanna sex you
but if your sick in bed, I’ll be there to rub your head
and when you’re better, I know just what I’m gonna do
Mani-pedis all around, go see the giraffes at the zoo
But it’s okay man, you don’t even have to ask
I’m your friend, I’m your bro
I’m your first, I’m your last

He’s funny, he’s cool he’s the number one goof
of our friendship I’ve got lots of ocular proof
talk show opening monologue, yeah one day he’s gonna write it
he’ll be there at his desk and I hope I sit beside it
His name, don’t mistake, is Talon like a claw
like sharp is his wit, jokes fast like quickdraw
Happy birthday bro, I know it won’t be long
Till you tell studio 8H, onnyong

Hey Talon, you’re number one
somethin somethin, let’s have fun in the sun
somethin somethin, I saw your buns
somethin somethin, you’re second to none
somethin somethin, you got me stunned
somethin somethin, now I’m finally done

Welcome to my Elysium,
you’re Khaleesi-son, my Dothraki dragon
Spitting fire like Joss Whedon’s fly,
making Thorin cry, Red Death trained to fly
So go find yourself a pile of gold,
this line has been Rick Roll’d,
you’re hangin with Gary Old-man
On the beach getting Edward Nor-tanned
like a rich man, Gatsby-ing American plans
To be inside Desdomona’s eyes,
You will see no lies, ain’t touched Cassio’s thighs
Day one it’s always Mike and You, here’s to 22, followin’ a Blue’s Clue
And to those haters always after your wealth,
go f@#% yourself! I know this doesn’t rhyme
Searching each and everyone of you out
I’ma laugh when you shout, “Please don’t blow my brains out!”