Intro

Let he who is without sin cast the first stone After you, who's last? It's DOOM he's the worst known That'll have your boom blown or even or even thirst bone Rock it to a worse clone, just don't cure the throne On his own microphone, bring it everywhere he go So he bring it live in stere-ere-o (stereo) Pan it, can't understand it, ban it The underhanded ranted, planned it, and left him stranded The best, any who profess will be remanded Yes sir, request permission to be candid? Granted I don't think we could handle a style so rancid He flipped it like Madlib did an old jazz stand in Don't mind me, I wrote this rhyme lightly Off of two or three Heines, and boy was they fine G One Black, one Spanish, one Chinese He keeps the woody shiny year round like a pine tree Don't sign me, I'm about to get a mil' without 'em Crowd him off the shelf, he's the villain, and what about him? So, eh, he's a jerk and you don't know him Mad how he expand work but won't show 'em Poor guys, what a sight for old sore four eyes Now hook me with, two apple pies and a small fries All rise, so far art as a Rupple So raw break it down and make quadruple It's crucial, you could see it in his pupil And this time when he get it he waste it on something useful Like getting juiced off a deuce-deuce of cokey Keep it lowkey, known to pull an okey-dokey Silly goose, DOOM is too jokey Damn he could really use a room or a whole key Egads, he got enough styles to start three fads True that, she bad, I wonder do she come with knee pads What a call, what a real butterball Either I get a strike or strike out, gutter-ball Rock it like gear for the fall With nice inside pockets, prepare for the brawl Yeah y'all, you could say it's an ear-full Beware, do not touch mic, be careful And just like you said I could've told ya MF, the holder of a boulder, money folder Money folder