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Potholderz
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MF Doom
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1
Hot shit, aw shit, hot shit, aw shit
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Hot shit, aw shit, hot shit
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Hot shit, aw shit, hot shit, aw shit
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Hot shit, aw shit
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I strive to be humble lest I stumble, never sold a jumbo
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Or copped chicken with its mumbo sauce
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Tyson is a fowl holocaust
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Hitler gassed your whole head up with poetry I'm fed up
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Ignore Cordon Bleu, stand up, get up
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Lunge for your knife; don't forget your potholderz
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Hot shit, what? These old things? About to throw them away
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With the gold rings that make 'em don't fit like O.J.
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Usually I take them off with Oil of Olay
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MC's is crabs in a barrel, pass the old bay
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Hot as hell and it's a cold day in it
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Working on a way that we go roll away tinted
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Some say the price of holdin' heat is often too high
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You either be in a coffin or you be the new guy
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The one that's too fly to eat shoe pie, never too busy
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Never too busy when it comes down to you and I
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Swear to God, a lot of niggaz wish to die
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They need to hold their horses, there's bigger fish to fry
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You're on the list, if not pick a number spot
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Ten and a half timbs is made to kick your bumbaclaat
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I could have had a V-8
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F-150 quad cab but I'll be straight
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Money comes and goes like that two bit hussy
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That night that tried to rush me, Dwight, pass the dutchie
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So I can calm down so they don't get it twisted
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Take it from the fire side it won't get blistered
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Got it, what happened? Oh, it's not lit
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These metal fingers be holding hot shit
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When I was four I pen God was born in New York
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Back in seventy seven still got nan in the crescent
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The effervescence of God's presence is thick
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Unlike vapor, escarole, extra roll, word to the baker
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Peace to the hard workin' ginger bread makers
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Looked her up and down, said, ‽Hmm, too much makeupâ€
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Poor music taste, ten years from being grown up
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Rappers don't blow up heads, do, aw shit
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My name is Dwight Spits, I'm a Sonic addict
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I use to think it was merely a nagging habit
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Born under a bad sign, I'm serious about this curse of mine
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I strive to flip it into fine wine
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Barely born a virgin is what the stars said
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Black not white, red all over though like Elmo
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Twenty eight years have passed, I feel I'm peakin'
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I make music every weekend
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It's a chore, a fact of life, a labor of love
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I get mad love but I detest the labor
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And its wages, you know death
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I'm servin' life on this gift of God
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Don't forget your potholderz, my niggaz
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Mo' hot
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Mo' hot shit
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Mo' hot shit
JJ DOOM - GUV'NOR (Official Video)
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