[Verse: MF DOOM]
He walk around town with a frown like Homey the Clown
Shelltoe Lee crown, well blow me down
Blow! Hell no, he sound funny
Outta bounds tryin' to cop a pound with brown money
Keep the change, peep game, the Range
Inches on the fringes of a deep steep of strange
Went and met a dread at the swine roast
Find him in the zone up ahead near the sign post
Follow the beat, you won't stumble
Shut your mouth, swallow your feet, or try and rumble
In discreet they lie and mumble
Catch 'em in the street they as humble as Bryant Gumble cryin' fumble
Don't let him get the call
Keep a stack a diss rhymes, one-size-fits-all
Tries to avoid the pitfall
Or else get hit in the eye with a old dry spitball
You must be crazy out ya mind
Even on the days he feel lazy he shout rhymes
No chains, no bridge, just get outshined
When he come blaze it people say it's about time
The old God with the old gold gold card
When he's on the road it's no-holds-barred, no lard
In the record game on some bull guard
So many nekked dames he might blow his whole wad
You learn somethin' new everyday
Go ahead and burn, they ain't nothin' to do anyway
'Cept sell tracks out the Cheverolet like lemonade
And go gold in the hood so he can get ghetto paid
Now that's usin' the ol' cranium
Like the jewelry cat who sold him fake plat uranium
Guaranteed to turn necks green like the Hulk
Have it manufactured by machine in bulk
They rock 'n roll like: 'Stop, Drop . . .'
And if they got soul, then welcome to the sock hop
Hip be-bop at ya block mom 'n pop shop
Timin' when it comes to rhymin' is chop-chop
Keep it lit til the last stroke of the pen
And ya don't quit like ya quit smokin' again
They said he keep his lyrics poked in a tin
And his secret recipe, soak it in some gin
Brings the heat like a radiator
Stays on beat with the mask like a gladiator
Sword is the mic cord
And he came to turn it out like a dyke broad out the psych ward
I recollect when he first took the sector
He use the connect-the-dot styles as a mic checker
Told him give the deposit, book the lecture
The crooked look wrecker, hooks is extra
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
