Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Hear Voices, artist - MF DOOM. Album song Operation: Doomsday (Complete), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 25.04.2011
Record label: Metalface
Song language: English
I Hear Voices |
Tossing, turning, dreams of murder, someone’s killing me |
Of changes, there’s nights I’m on a killing spree |
All done cold blood waking up in cold sweats |
This is such a cold world unconscious getting death threats |
Shadows choking me, my last breath lets out my body |
It’s a conspiracy, my mind and my body’s not really down with me |
Me against the whole world? |
It’s a little deeper |
Me against my self, I fight the Grim Reaper |
Swing sickle, I got my Glock bust rounds off |
Demented, schizophrenic, I know this sounds off to you |
I do not lie, when I doze off spirits hope I die, whatever |
Angels waste the time, they work together |
Scheme and plot on me, cause I’m the son of man |
I hear voices from a dog like Son of Sam |
Don’t give a damn if the bullets fill me |
I don’t wanna live, I hope they kill me |
Put me out my misery, I live in misery |
I kill all my enemies, cause I love company |
Those who seek me, are called wise men |
Or either wise-guys I pray you comprehend |
And realize I’m condemned |
No rest, homicidal dreams |
My cellmate, all he do is scream |
Out loud how he wants to go home |
That’s funny, I’m here all alone |
Locked, in a single cell |
His back’s bleeding, he’s cold as hell |
And I’m hoping, they turn on some heat |
I call the C.O. |
to bring some extra sheets |
«Where'd he go?» |
he walk through walls, run halls, I pray «teach me» |
They don’t see him at the health they try to reach me |
I said «please see how he feels» |
They said, «He's alright but he’s not real» |
Evaluations say I suffer from depression |
Hallucinations, self-creations, what they’re guessin' |
I’m here doing years, I’m stressin' |
Medicate me, sedate me want me to rest an' |
Don’t take it cause he said that won’t be best an' |
He said I need his help and he needs me |
«Nigga you walk through walls, go home you’re free» |
Home, that was far and he was turned off |
Cause his wings was burned off |
A lesson was learned, communicate with one |
I was chosen cause I’m God’s son |
And I’m the retarded one! |
(*sings*) Out in the streets |
You won’t survive with, wack-ass beats («We can see that!») |
These days and times |
Watch as we get ours with rhymes |
To my Metal Face bros with stomachs of cast-iron |
Who been in to win and blast to the last siren |
On the slow-mo the calm artist with the so-so chick |
Chased them all like how he did to Slobodan Milosovik |
Anyhoo, how 'bout them Yankees? |
Once I leave off-stage the party people thanks mee’s |
If I may speak freely nasty like the freaky-deeky |
At your local sleazy speak-easy |
For any fan of the limelight |
In the mic stand was left a lit stick of dynamite |
It’s risky business like hand-to-hand crack sale |
With rappers who’s better off on the cover of Black Tail |
Jumpin Jehosaphat, who’s that? |
Who cats who do magic be like «tell me how you do’s that» |
Heck no, especially those who cop pleas like gecko |
Thought I might do techno |
Ha ha, betcha bust out laughing at the bet |
For no reason he get cussed out like Tourettes |
Yet tight flow to make her bad-ass stutter |
Or even crack a smile from a mad fast cutter |
Butter, word play since third grade age |
Back when we used to play «Bang! |
Open bird cage» |
Hip hop’s Benny Hill sip Henny straight, get every penny weighed, then he chill, |
at any rate |
My metal-face hoes with tongue or (at) least eye ring |
Do yourself, I will continue to do my thing |
Like Kung-Fu fighting everybody was biting |
And the super-villain strike again like lightning |
In the same spot (bzzz!) now what’s the chance of that? |
And a name-drop like pick the name out the hat |
That’s a no jiver from the, liver conniver |
Who vote players out the rap game like Survivor while I |
Drop through greens like a nerd cat with intended speech from way back |
And spin on your back and then freeze |
While I play high-ball, low-ball, to zero |
So called rhymers, go call Cleo |
While I, steal the show like thought-so-try-hiking |
Super-duper stars need Ortho-TriCylin |
Sometimes the men, mostly from the women |
I hear voices saying that’s the super-villain |
(Uhh, I hear voices) |
Mostly from the women, I hear voices… super-villain |