[Verse 1: MF DOOM]
I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead
And leave the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said
On the mic, he's heat-red, ghetto, street-bred
All crooked D.T.s and feds can eat lead
Wheat, gluten-free, he is who he is, is who he be
Mind your biz for me
It could even help you in the long run
What good's a song if the jawn is no fun
Shogun, invisible armor level five
Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive
Playin' jivе, beamin' on the telеmetry
Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC
Though prefer the term "rhymer"
Third-timer slurred word primer, dime her
And make sure it stay tight, it's only right
Own the daylight and the night, they bite
And it's all happy-go-lucky shit
Ask him, do he really give a fuck-shit? Tuck it
Nothin' on the bucket list, suck it
Struck a nugget, duck, kid
[Verse 2: Kurious]
Avalanche, these frauds should tell us how they really feel
They should say they fake, so now we know they really real
This shit is ill, the thrill, the smell, the hood, the skill is good
The will, the truth, the throat, the folks, the rhymes, the notes, the folks that still the same
The pain, the drugs, the dose, your host [?] stupid
High power, rapping cupid, street bread and eloquent's revisions on the rapping blueprint
Tryna stay polite when it's too bent
Or to stay in your lane and still thank you for your two cent
Heart and spirits, blaze affiliate raising the quantum lyrics, hard critics
So fresh bound to reassess once they start to hear it
Love both, left the party on some do-