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mf doom & mf grimm - red #40 + wasabi = bottle rocket كلمات الأغنية

[sample (melody): cerrone – “rocket in the pocket (live)” (0:40)]

[intro: mf grimm]
m.i.c. m.i.c. m.i.c

[verse 1: mf grimm]
the grimm
reaper will reap, so don’t sleep or make a peep. i’m deep
i got a shotty and it pumps like a jeep. as it
pump, you weep, you’re up sh-t’s creek. i’m not
pumping de la soul, i’m pumping little creeps with heaps
and heaps of lead. like sheep, they’re led to their
deathbed, fed instead of making bread, then left
dead, ripped to shreds, twist and hanging like dreads
i rest heads to bed like club med
get wise, realize that sometimes hypnotize
emcees through my rhymes and lines that they memorize
dropkick dipsticks, built like thick sticks
or toothpicks. i kick -ss quick and sick like a
karate fl!ck, chop you like a brick, you tick
flame-broiled or either fried, the burger king’ll mix
thought you’re dope, but you’re sh-t, you d-ck. i stick n-ggas up
‘cause i’m a lunatic, my victims are handpicked
you’re wiped off like lipstick, seasick or homesick
pretend i’m dead then beat that -ss with a broomstick
say one word, and, yes, your -ss i’ll chase
that’s not gas, that’s fear in your face. after
words, no handshake. you’re soft like cheesecake
tough like beefsteak but sweet like shortcake
a young star, by far, that’s up to par
no matter who you are, i’ll be ready to spar
‘cause the mic is a crowbar, my rhymes are solar
cl-ssy like a jaguar, the microphone all-star
grimm’s a die-hard, chill on the boulevard
with my bodyguard who’s big like a st. bernard
so war i declare, so beware it’s unfair ‘cause
you can’t compare gold to silverware

[hook: mf grimm] (x3)
i destroy!
get the f-ck out my path, you’re interfering with me
go against me, n-gga, you don’t want no deals with me

[verse 2: mf grimm]
your flows
are dead to my demented sentences
relentless pain, no novocain, i drill like
a dentist, you couldn’t prevent this. hard like
cement tape, musical rape leave you hanging like drapes
i crush microphones like they were grapes on
tour, i make a lot of papes, but the
words you heard, i mend, designed, and shape up
bent this track, sent his wack apprentice
-ss right back to the drawing board. he was
a joke to the rhyme overlord
overlord overlord, so catch
the wave like c0ke or just float like a surfboard
stomp in the streets, i tear up clubs
you reach for the mic, and i’ll leave you with nubs
i fry brain cells like a bag of chips
when a rapper try to flip or either give me lip
catch me at my maddest, that’s when i write my
baddest sh-t, then i lock like a pick. on the
paper, sick ‘em. another victim for the musical
raper, rhyme-ripper, style-stripper, none hipper. sharp
like a nail clipper, i’m bigger than both of the dippers
and very dapper, i’ll go deeper, then flip her
but when it come to rappers, rappers, rappers
huh, y’all just little whippersnappers
so what up? what up? punk, shut up!
or get your jaw broke like razor ruddock
awww sh-t, i’m at it again
chasing motherf-ckers like i’m rin tin tin
the final chapter, no more laughter as i
bomb your -ss just like the day after
no nuclear warheads ‘cause, instead, all
rhymes are launched by the kid who’s fed
with infrared to pinpoint the joint or
the place or the person i chase’s face, so
walk and don’t try to talk when i stomp or stalk
i don’t discriminate, grimm reaper hates
all emcees who grab the microphone
yes, i dislike them whether they’re friend or foe
so, yo, i start to throw deadly body blows
eight-punch combos, i turn stars into john
does, so if you see me at a show, you better
g-o and tiptoe your -ss out the f-cking door
i film my shows with a handy-cam
before i go on i sip, some brandy and
sprinkle sweet rhymes like the candyman
and i cripple emcees, i’ll make ‘em handi-man
i destroy! get the f-ck out my path

- mf doom mf grimm

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