MIC Line

[Intro: King Geedorah] One, two, one, two, one, two, one, two [Verse 1: King Geedorah] Geedorah write a rhyme in the time he hollow out a flask Cracked a Guinness Stout with his teeth one time, swallowed the glass A pain in the ass, to say the least He came with many new techniques to slay the beast While simultaneously saving the streets Bombing and calming the savage with above-average beats Get the cabbage in the most lavish suites Consummate marriages in between the middle of sheets Provider of the vittles eats tryna be the illest dad a kid’ll meet For the love of patter of little feets It kind of gets you right here, don’t it? Mess with mine, your life’ll be a nightmare, won’t it? Left the 9 at home, I hope my lady don’t pawn it Doggone it, it ain’t even got no serial number on it For God’s sakes, spare the god the heartache Mentally scar a smart snake before he start to fake They love to hate him, on a certain level, need him Geedorah known to make a deal with the Devil and beat him Then proceed to sip a shot of vodka like methadone The mic said to the headphone, “We just want to be left alone So we can get it on to an unknown metronome” Don’t worry: will he get to zone? Crews best to get their chrome Pay your overdue dues to King Geedorah, better known Getting grown, trying to get on the mic—instead, it’s blown Too many freaks, not enough circuses Only a true geek could peep how much work this is So put that in your blunt hole and puff it Stunts at the gun so y’all might as well stuff it Or can it, abandon ship, I’ll miss y’all And if they insist, beat ‘em all like fistball The news watch never stops From the city it mocks, “Who that on the idiot box?” “Well if it ain’t Geedorah, alert the media Maker of the beats that’s a real hurt-feeder Sometimes he come through to let you know he see ya Don’t let him have to call Smog to head-to-toe graffiti ya” Just flew in from Dallas, and, boy, is my talons calloused And what’s a girl like you doing here amongst the island’s foulest? A cat in Wonderland who found Alice Gee her with the flows by the gallon or the chalice Everybody wilding out, trying to be the wildest And refuse to acknowledge why this shit is so childish “One, two, one, two” play, I wonder what they do today Besides repeat their choruses more times than Confucius say And start too many songs with “Uh” or “Uhhh” Yeah, I hear you, soldier, I told ya like, “No duh!” It’s King Geedorah, the no-ass-getter Still qualify as a world-class spitter Shift to shitter, write a rhyme in the nighttime Make a beat taste like wine like I spiked mine And I heard it through the Mic Line That crews don’t even write rhymes And I hope that they get much better Yes, I doo-ooo-ooo-ooo I pledge that, every day I rep Know the ledge from every step And I hope that they do get better Yes, I do Geedorah known to stack flows back-to-back-to-back flows Like, “And now back to our show” In other news, people had enough of them other crews Up their dues, snuff a fews, cut a fuse [Outro] Tape must be finished. Now what?