Rapp Snitch Knishes - MF DOOM

Mr. Fantastik

The villain

What up, nigga?

Ain’t nuttin, what’s the word?

What’s cracking, boy?

Same ol’shit, kid

Man.rap snitches man.

shit is bugged out, man, the fuck man

You telling me Niggaz running their mouth, telling anything, anything!

(Chorus: 2 times)

Rap snitches, tellin all their business

Sit in the court and be they own star witness

Do you see the perpetrator, yeah I’m right here

Fuck around and get the whole label sent up for years (Huh)

Type profile low, like ay get paid in full

Attract heavy cash cuz the game’s centrifical

Mister Fantastik long though like elastic

Got my life between glocks, it’s made out of plastic

Can’t stand the brown nosin nigga fake ass bastard

Admiring my style so I bust through Manhattan

Since plottin, plan the quickest, my flow is the sickest

My hoes be the thickest, my dro.

the stickiest

Street nigga, stamped and bonafide

When beef jump niggaz come get me cuz they know I ride

Two to the ski mask, New York’s my origin

Play a fake gangsta like a old accordian

Accordin ta him, when the deed’s rushed in Complication from the wild testimony was thin

Caused his man ta go up north, the ball hit 'em again

Blame rap snitch nigga, even told on the mexican

(Chorus: 2 times) * (The second time the chorus is repeated, it doesn’t end

with «Huh»)

Rap snitches, tellin all their business

Sit in the court and be they own star witness

Do you see the perpetrator, yeah i’m right here

Fuck around get the whole label sent up for years (Huh)

True, there’s rules to this shit, fools dare care

Everybody wanna rule the world with tears for fear

Yeah yeah tell 'em tell it on the mountain hill

Runnin up they mouth bill, everybody doubtin still

Informer, keep it up and get tested

Pop through the bubble vest or double breasted

He keep a lab down south in the little beast

So much heat you woulda thought it was the middle east

A little grease always keeps the wheels a spinnin

Like sittin on twenty threes to get the squeelers grinnin

Hittin on many trees, feel real linen

Spittin on enemies, get the steel for tin men

Where no brains but gum flap

He said his gun clap, then he fled after one slap

(Pat!) son shut your trap, save it for the bitches

MMM… delicious, rap snitch knishes

You know what I’m saying?

It’s a terrible--crazy, man

Just analyzing this all game, it’s bugged out

Niggaz snitching.

telling on them allselves

It’s a horror, man.

Fuck around.

and get anybody bagged, man.

Fuck around and get yo mama bagged, nigga.

You know your grandmama begging.

fake hustling nigga

(*Laughter*)