I'm a Textpert is a rap battle featuring Rhett and Link as "texperts" (texting experts), who text while driving. You can download the instrumental version here. The message was to not text while driving. Some could say this is a similar message to the "Get Off the Phone Song".



What you doin'?

Driving. Whatchu doin'?

Driving and texting.

Hmm. Are you sure you should be doing that?

Yes. Because I'm a Texpert. An expert at texting.

Rejecting the notion that you think I'll be wrecking.

Due to the fact that I'm distracted,

I multi-task best behind the wheel when I get textually active.

You should keep both eyes on the road, sir. For real.

You'll look down, look up, and end up in the trunk of another automobile.

Leave it to a pro. Be incommunicado.

Until you get to where you need to go, this conversation's o-ver.

No it isn't.

Yes it is.

No it isn't, 'cause I'm a textpert, an expert at texting.

Pressing my keypad when my car's not resting.

I can divide my attention up,

I've got so much attention, I've got an eleven-tion.

With one eye on the road; one eye on my phone.

I texted in this drive-thru order for my latte and scone. Thank you.

Now I'm gonna text and eat and sip and dip and shift

It in to D and then chin drive home.

I'm a textpert.

A texting traveller who doesn't need a chauffeur, ur, ur, ur, ur.

I'm a textpert.

Don't worry nobody's gonna get hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt.

Sometimes I text both sides of a conversation,

'Cause it's tough to keep up with my text-ual pacing.

On rare occasions, when I got nothing to text about,

I text myself reminders of what I'm doing now.

I carry on more concurrent conversations,

Then one phone alone is prone to accept.

So I've tested and perfected my patented method,

The second handset hands-free toe text.

I ride with my Swedish masseuse,

To give me deep tissue thumb shiatzu.

My yogi shows me hand yoga poses,

Like downward facing pinky and thumb lotus.

I've never stooped so low as to text photos,

Instead I text the correct combo of 1's and 0's.

I'm an artiste, using ASCII,

I just texted the toad to an art gallery.

I text more then the next bored pre-pubescent tween.

In fact, I've text-induced my own second puberty.

How does that work exactly?

Everything that happened before is happening some more.

That's all I'm comfortable sharing at this time.

I gave a lift to a drifter, and texted his estranged sister.

And now I'm hostin' 'em here for dinner.

Well, did I mention I'm a text-itrician?

The next-gen OB/GYN, a Lamaze text-nician.

Well, I'm the next Dr. Phil of SMS.

I'm poppin' out babies with the power of text.

I'm a textpert.

A texting traveller who doesn't need a chauffeur, ur, ur, ur, ur.

By the way, where you headed, son? (I'm a textpert)

Headed west on 421. 421? Uh-uh. West? Yes, you? Me? I'm headed- (Don't worry nobody's gonna get hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt.)


  • Written & Directed by: Rhett & Link
  • Music Production by: Mark Byers
  • Music Composition by: Mike Cionni
  • Produced by: Stevie Wynne Levine
  • Director of Photography: Benjamin Eck
  • Edited by: Benjamin Eck
  • Production Designer: Mike Pasley
  • AD: Stevie Wynne Levine
  • Production Coordinator: Laura Benson
  • AC: Alexander Swickard
  • Gaffer: Todd Bishop
  • Grip/PA: Chris Frederick
  • Special thanks to Eileen Rivera, Jason Djang, and Becca Canote at YouTube Space LA!
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