Doomsday - MF DOOM, MF Grimm

Mic Check

When I was led to you

I knew you were the one for me

Come through dig the sound

I swear the whole world could feel you MC

Crowd around

I used to cop a lot, but never copped no drop

Hold mics like pony tails tight and bob a lot

Stop and stick around, come through and dig the sound

Of the fly brown 6−0 sicko psycho who throws his dick around

Bound to go three-plat, came to destroy rap

It’s a intricate plot of a b-boy strap

Femstat cats get kidnapped

Then release a statement to the press, let the rest know who did that

Metal Fist terrorists claim responsibility

Broken household name usually said in hostility

Um… what is MF?

You silly

I’d like to take «Means to the End» for two milli'

«Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo!»

That’s a audio daily double

Rappers need to fall off just to save me the trouble, yo

Watch your own back came in and go out alone, black

Stay in the zone—turn H2O to Cognac

On Doomsday!, ever since the womb ‘til I’m back where my brother went,

that’s what my tomb will say

Right above my government;

Dumile

Either unmarked or engraved, hey, who’s to say?

I wrote this one in B.C.

D.C. O-section

If you don’t believe me, go get bagged and check then

Cell number 17, up under the top bunk

I say this not to be mean, wish bad luck or pop junk

Pop the trunk on Cee Cipher Punk, leave him left scraped

God forbid, if there ain’t no escape, blame MF tape

Definition «super-villain»: a killer who love children

One who is well-skilled in destruction, as well as building

While Sidney Sheldon teaches the trife to be trifer

I’m trading science fiction with my man the live lifer

A pied piper holler a rhyme, a dollar and a dime

Do his thing, ring around the white collar crime

Get out my face, askin' ‘bout my case, need toothpaste

Fresher mint, monkey-style nigga get dentadent

And dope fiends still in they teens, shook niggas turn witness

Real mens mind their own business

That’s the difference between sissy-pissy rappers that’s double-dutch

How come I hold the microphone double-clutch

C.O.'s make rounds, never have ‘ox found

On shakedown, lock-down, wet dreams of Fox' Brown

On Doomsday!

Ever since the womb ‘til I’m back where my brother went

That’s what my tomb will say

Right above my government;

Dumile

Either unmarked or engraved, hey, who’s to say?

Doomsday

Ever since the womb ‘til I’m back to the essence

Read it off the tomb

Either engraved or unmarked grave, who’s to say?

Pass the mic like «Pass the peas like they used to say»

Some M-er F-ers don’t like how Sally walk

I’ll tell y’all fools it’s hella cool how ladies from Cali talk

Never let her interfere with the Yeti ghetto slang

Nicknames off nipplin' tip of nipples metal fang.

metal fang

Known amongst hoes for the bang-bang

Known amongst foes for flow without no talking orangutans

Only gin and Tang

Guzzled out a rusty tin can, me and this mic is like yin and yang

Clang!

Crime don’t pay, listen, youth

It’s like me holding up the line at the kissing booth

I took her back to the truck, she was uncouth

Spittin' all out the sunroof, through her missing tooth

But then she has a sexy voice, sound like Jazzy Joyce

So I turned it up faster than a speeding knife

Strong enough to please a wife

Able to drop today’s math in the 48 keys of life

Cut the crap far as rap

Touch the mic, get the same thing a Arab will do to you for stealing

What the Devil?

He’s on another level

It’s a word!

No, a name!

MF — the Super-Villain!

When I

Doomsday

Check the sound

Right around was led to you

I knew you were the one for me

I swear the whole world could feel you MC