Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
MF DOOM
MF DOOM
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Daniel Dumile
Daniel Dumile
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Metal Fingers
Metal Fingers
Producer

Lyrics

It's the beat, he hear it in his sleep sometimes Blare it in your Jeep, so your peoples can stare at them rhymes Real rhymes not your everyday hologram Even when ribs was touchin', never swallowed the ham He'd rather eat a sand sandwich salad It might need salt like your man's bland ballad A lot of stuff happens that the news won't tell you's Blues on L juice, snooze, all hell loose Rake it, take it like the good, the bad, the ugly Break it, rollin' through ya hood in the caddy buggy Butter softly, leather flossy, fatty juggy Always threw me off when she told me, "Daddy, funk me" I'm like, "Anywho's" Seeds walkin' all out in the street without any shoes I guess it's better than some funky socks You need to get her some skips before she catch the monkeypox (hahahahaha) Instead, she wanna hear the beatbox Take pills and make fake krills as sheetrock Sing it, bring it, back to your laboratory While he's in his oratory, glorious like a horror story The mask is like Jason They told the place not to let the basket type case in He could be some kind of wacko Waitin' for the chance to heat the pipes like a crack ho He busted in, blessed be the Lord Who believe any mess they read up on a message board If so, I got bridges for the low low Same bitch a-go dry snitchin' to the popo Here, orange peel stogs for the whole tier Feel like I've been gone over a year, came home to old gear It was the shit when I first scooped it At least I get to sit out in New York and curse stupid Plead the fifth, sip wine stiffly Patiently come up and be spiffy in a jiffy Gift for the grind, criminal mind shifty Swift with the nine through a fifty-nine fifty Well edumacated, he heard it when he meditated In deep theta, let her hate the creep later Dedicated cheap skata who keeps data Say he stay self-medicated to sleep later Side effects is similar to sugar pill Whoever go next on the mic, he put a booger, ill And made his exit on some calm shit Begged him on the regular for kegs of more vomitspit ("DOOM!")
Writer(s): Daniel Thompson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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