[Intro: MF DOOM]
(The, the finest)
As the life cycle goes on (Goes on)
And you learn to hold on (Hold on)
To things like the mic (The mic)
And you learn to appreciate who's the nicest
On said device, but who is (The finest)
[Verse 1: Tommy Gunn & MF DOOM]
Tommy Tashuma, too much drama, blind behind the rumor
Time and time inside my mind, I'm tryna find a tumor
Tommy Tashuma, no time for humor
As soon as one of your men's dead in Hempstead, you trying to find Pumas
Sooner the better, even knitted a sweater already, keep your leather
We comin' through the brutal weather, we ready to do whatever
Yo, DOOM, you with it? You know it like a poet, my brother
Hey, Gunn, you with it? Whatever (The finest)
I know about going paid to broke to next day well-off
To bust a shell off, to dick-riders: "Get the hell off"
Made a call to a client, he must've had his cell off
A show-off, he has the same bike Puff fell off
I tell off the bat, from science to pure facts
Which niggas is wack 'til they last two tracks
Matter fact, y'all could wait for the rep to tell
The tall tale how he escaped from out the depths of Hell
When Gunn die, he gon' die like a soldier die, holding a swollen eye
Drinking Olde Gold and smoking a stog
Watching po-po patrol the beach, blowing my high, rolling by
When Gunn die, he gon' try to preach the streets then go to the sky
Yup! That hold water, like drizzle in a paper cup
This one etched in stone, the chisel rip the paper up
I need a cut: a taper-up, edge-up
Niggas can't measure up, I'm here to get the treasure up
Hands up, hold 'em high, do or die, he got heat, no surprise
Stop the beat, close your eyes, got the weed, rolling lye
Not sweet so no demise, all the guys drops seeds to multiply
Whatever the prophecies hold to lie (Let's go!)
[Break: MF DOOM]
He bled my mother, my father, but can't bleed me
OD, ghetto misery
He bled my brother, my sister, but can't bleed me
A OG, ghetto misery
Bled my mother, my father, but can't bleed me
[Verse 2: Tommy Gunn & MF DOOM]
The Sci.Fly, whole style stuck up
Used to talk to myself, I told him, "Shut the fuck up!"
Buckle up 'cause it's about to be rough
He said, "Keep talking that shit, you 'bout to be snuffed"
Then we squashed it, I let him know, "Watch it
We only met a time to join these rhymers in the mosh pit"
Gosh, it feel great just to increase the chance
For a pussy nigga face to hit the dance floor
I pull your top up, got clout, crack rock, what?
Now it's all good business, and so this bitch is locked up
On the dance floor, you got knocked out, your bitch got knocked up
Babyface, they can you, brand you, brand new machete
Damn, I just shook your hand and can't stand you already
Can't stand you, understand you deadly
But my hammer's like a band, my man, it's Brand New and Heavy
Yo' DOOM, you ready? Yeah! Yo, Gunn, you with it? Whatever
Come on stay, I wrote this rhyme on my born day
Remind me of the same style I flipped on "Hey!"
"Yikes!!!" Who can fuck with the likes
Of one such who score touchdown and spikes mics?
Metal grill, with many styles, better still
Feel like number twenty-six on a roulette wheel
And deal, and run rings around rhymers
And run rings like number runners whose old-timers
Shorty in the all black, she think she all thatI called her, she said, "Don't call back!"
She called me, now what you call that?
Let's go back, I sold crack, hold gats, smoke that, drink that, toke that
Fuck! Where that ho at? Where that dough at?
Suffering succotash! This hooker broke into his last buck of cash
He love her, motherfuck her ass
Metal Feet dented your car fender
My agenda up in the basement party tipping the bartender
Is unbeknownst to you, who could get body blown?
MF like Mike Fran Corleone
And got it sown, maricon, like to know what you staring at?
An invisible cat who pull off disappearing act
Raised by a pack of wild wisdoms like Sweetback
Front? I'ma be back like brothers in the street act
Surrounded by a bunch a bad bitches like Sweetback
Fuck with me, I'll be back like niggas in the streets act (Streets act)
[Outro]
Of black misery
The finest
