| Geedorah write a rhyme in the time he hollow out a flask
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| Cracked a Guinness Stout with his teeth one time, swallowed the glass
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| A pain in the ass, to say the least
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| He came with many new techniques to slay the beast
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| While simultaneously saving the streets
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| Bombing and calming the savage with above-average beats
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| Get the cabbage in the most lavish suites
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| Consummate marriages in between the middle of sheets
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| Provider of the vittles eats, trying to be the illest
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| Dad a kid’ll meet for the love of patter of little feets
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| It kind of gets you right here, don’t it?
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| Mess with mine, your life’ll be a nightmare, won’t it?
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| Left the 9 at home, I hope my lady don’t pawn it
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| Doggone it, it ain’t even got no serial number on it
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| For God’s sakes, spare the god the heartache
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| Mentally scar a smart snake before he start to fake
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| They love to hate him, on a certain level, need him
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| Geedorah known to make a deal with the Devil and beat him
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| Then proceed to sip a shot of vodka like methadone
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| The mic said to the headphone, «We just want to be left alone
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| So we can get it on to an unknown metronome»"
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| Don’t worry: will he get to zone? |
| Crews best to get their chrome
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| Pay your overdue dues to King Geedorah, better known
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| Getting grown, trying to get on the mic—instead, it’s blown
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| Too many freaks, not enough circuses
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| Only a true geek could peep how much work this is
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| So put that in your blunt hole and puff it
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| Stunts at the gun so y’all might as well stuff it
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| Or can it, abandon ship. |
| I’ll miss y’all
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| And if they insist, beat ‘em all like fistball
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| The news watch never stops
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| From the city it mocks, «Who that on the idiot box?»
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| «Well if it ain’t Geedorah, alert the media
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| Maker of the beats that’s a real hurt-feeder
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| Sometimes he come through to let you know he see ya
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| Don’t let him have to call Smog to head-to-toe graffiti ya»
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| Just flew in from Dallas, and, boy, is my talons calloused
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| And what’s a girl like you doing here amongst the island’s foulest?
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| A cat in Wonderland who found Alice
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| Gee her with the flows by the gallon or the chalice
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| Everybody wilding out, trying to be the wildest
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| And refuse to acknowledge why this shit is so childish
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| «One, two, one, two» play. |
| I wonder what they do today
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| Besides repeat their choruses more times than Confucius say
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| And start too many songs with «Uh» or «Uhhh»
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| Yeah, I hear you, soldier. |
| I told ya like, «No duh!»
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| It’s King Geedorah, the no-ass-getter
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| Still qualify as a world-class spitter
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| Shift to shitter, write a rhyme in the nighttime
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| Make a beat taste like wine like I spiked mine
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| And I heard it through the mic line
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| That crews don’t even write rhymes, and I
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| Hope that they get much better. |
| Yes, I
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| Doo-ooo-ooo-ooo
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| I pledge that, every day I rep
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| Know the ledge from every step, and I
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| Hope that they do get better. |
| Yes, I
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| Doo-ooo-ooo-ooo
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| Geedorah known to stack flows back-to-back-
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| -to-back flows like, «And now back to our show»
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| In other news, people had enough of them
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| Other crews, up their dues, snuff a fews, cut a fuse
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| Tape must be finished. |
| Now what? |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mic Line , by - MF DOOM. Song from the album Best of Mf, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп