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Beef Rapp
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MF Doom
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Produced By: MF DOOM
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[Verse 1]
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Beef rap, could lead to getting teeth capped
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Or even a wreath for ma dukes on some grief crap
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I suggest you change your diet
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It can lead to high blood pressure if you fry it
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Or even a stroke, heart attack, heart disease
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It ain't no starting back once arteries start to squeeze
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Take the easy way out phony, until then
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They know they wouldn't be talking that baloney in the bullpen
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So disgusting, pardon self as I discuss this
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They talk a wealth of shit and they ain't never seen the justice
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Bust this, like a cold milk from out the toilet
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Two batteries some Brillo and some foil, he'a boil it
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He be better off on PC glued
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And it's a feud so don't be in no TV mood
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Every week it's mystery meat, seaweed stewed
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(Food, we need food!)
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[Verse 2]
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He wears a mask just to cover the raw flesh
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A rather ugly brother with flows that's gorgeous
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Drop dead joints hit the whips like bird shit
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They need it like a hole in they head or a third tit
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Her bra smell, his card say: aw hell
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Barred from all bars and kicked out the Carvel
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Keep a cooker where the jar fell
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And keep a cheap hooker that's off the hook like Ma Bell
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Top bleeding, maybe fella took the loaded rod gears
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Stop feeding babies colored sugar-coated lard squares
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The odd pair swears and God fears
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Even when it's rotten, we've gotten through the hard years
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I wrote this note around New Year's
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Off a couple a shots and a few beers, but who cares?
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Enough about me, it's about the beats
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Not about the streets and who food he about to eat
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A rhyming cannibal who's dressed to kill and cynical
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Whether is it animal, vegetable, or mineral
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It's a miracle how he get so lyrical
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And proceed to move the crowd like a old Negro spiritual
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For a mil' do a commercial for Mello Yello
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Tell 'em devil's hell no, sell y'all own Jello
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We hollow krills, she swallow pills
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He follow flea collar three dollar bills
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And squeal for halal veal, 80-dollar pill
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Dig the real, it's how the big ballers deal
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Twirl a L after every meal (FOOD!)
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[Verse 3]
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What up?
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To all rappers: shut up with your shutting up
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And keep your shirt on, at least a button-up
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Yuck, is they rhymers or strippin' males?
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Out of work jerks since they shut down Chippendales
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They chippin' nails, DOOM, tippin' scales
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Let alone the pre-orders that's counted off shippin' sales
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This one goes out to all my peoples skippin' bail
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Dippin' jail, whippin' tail, and sippin' ale
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Light the doobie 'till it glow like a ruby
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After which they couldn't find the Villain like Scooby
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He's in the lab on some old Buddha Monk shit
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Overproof drunk shit, and who would'a thunk it?
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Punk, try and ask why ours be better
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Could be the iron mask or the Cosby sweater
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Yes, you, who's screwed by the dude on the CD, nude (We need food!)
MF DOOM : Beef Rapp
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