Mic check 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 six-o 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 strapped 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 "Mens 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, Dumille 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 See-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 Every 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 nipple and tip of nipples metal fang Known amongst hoes for the bang-bang Known amongst foes for flow with 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 Doomsday Check the sound Right around
