Boulder Holder

[Verse: MF DOOM]

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 thirst bone

Rock it to a worst clone, just don't curse the throne

Own his own microphone, bring it everywhere he go

So he can bring it to you live in stere-ere-o

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 can handle a style so rancid

They flipped it like Madlib, did an old jazz standard

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

It keeps the woody shiny year round like a pine tree

Don't sign me I'm about to get a mil' without 'em

Grab him off the shelf, he's the villain, and what about him

So and 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'll waste it on somethin' useful

Like getting juiced off a deuce-deuce of cokey

Keep it low key, known to pull a 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 dat, she bad, I wonder do she come with kneepads

What a call, what a real butterball

Either I get a strike or strike out, gutterball

Rock it like gear for the fall

With knives inside pockets, prepare for the brawl

Yeah y'all we could say its an earful

Beware, do not touch mic, be careful

And just like he said

I coulda told ya

MF, the holder of a boulder, Money Folder

It ain't funny nigga

Money Folder

[Outro]

Like, I know what's up

The invasion was on