MICROWAVE MAYO

MF Doom

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    Chain-smoking beedies till his brain's broken completely
    Get back on his feet, work out and eat some Wheaties
    Greedy for the cheese, please, most couldn't fathom
    Had him in the cobra clutch, when he spat the mad hymn
    Gems, collection of brrrats Timbs and hats
    Had no time for the pitty-pat, I'll give him that
    The rhythm hit him back with a right hook
    Shook it off, caught a shiner, thought it was an aight look
    Depends on the shades
    The end of days fades, pretenders lay
    In dazes on stages, DOO-Malaise
    Eat it up, microphone, microwave mayonnaise
    His own way was strange but it matters not
    Tuned into a frequency tone that shattered rock
    Hold it down like Shatner do Spock
    Rapper jocks need to put a sock in they chatterbox
    The block got light of Vioxx stock
    Folks gather round, it's no joke like: Knock, knock
    It's them, they came home to roost y'all
    And watch 'em transform the game to the rules of foosball
    She's too small, any questions?
    Him could squeeze blood from a penny in the recession
    Keep guessing, it gets deeper than depression
    The power of suggestion wake a sleeper, peep the lesson
    Dig that beat
    Ripped it with Metal Fingers and stomped it with big fat feet
    And you know what they say, cut the hay
    Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated, but today
    It's all grey, metallic with a ruby stone
    Rude like the type of dude you could write a movie on
    Hardcore porn, did his own stunts
    Writ his own rhymes and split his own blunts
    Once, in a while, every other minute
    Eyes pop out, Popeye, heavy on the spinach
    Steady on his business and ready with a ill pitch
    Keeps a bad bilznitch like Denny Kucinilznich
    No hitch, just a shit-load of spit and sneeze
    Strictly G stacking up off a rack of hidden fees
    Rap is like the gay club strip tease
    With hippies on the yip saying: Hey bub, grip these
    They screaming for attention
    Beaming at the mention of a scary demon convention
    You could cut the tension with a switchblade
    And serve it on the same plate of hors d'oeuvres a witch made
    Filleted, persuaded the chambermaid
    To bet her paycheck on a get-naked game of spades
    Straight up, no chaser, no layaways
    Caution, faint taste of microwave mayonnaise

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    Doom has taken over every continent

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Jake One

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