Released: October 2, 2007
Featuring: Guilty Simpson
Producer: J Dilla
[Intro: MF DOOM]
He wants to get his girlfriend? Go get your girlfriend
Ay! And now...you is 'bout to dance, like you ain't never danced before
[Verse 1: MF DOOM]
This one'll have you get the trash hash out the stash, as they say, "Ash to Ash"
Jewels free rash, fools ask the mask
Need me? I'll be peeing in the pool, ka-splash!
You may feel a slight drizzle
Villain—give a squealer a candlelight vigil
Couldn't find a healer with a whistle in the line of sight
And he hold the mic like a fistful of dynamite
They wonder how he built his C-note tower
All before zero hour it's tree grow power
Then he go shower to scour off the funk
And watch a so-called comp cower soft punk
The god is the oddest fella you'll find
Paid to speak his mind like Father Jealous Divine
He came to rock the banquet, rank it
Along with two of the baddest broads to act stank wit, blank spit
Dilla raise the beat like a anchor banker
Overstand the shoot and plays the heat
And shank a wanker
He drank a tank of angst, thank ya
Guess what? Chicken head butts
Hit a rhyme on time, like kicked 'em dead in the nuts
Oh... the victim had guts
Prepare to stick 'em, I'll slick 'em in the cut
Go... sell a spear chucker voodoo
Got'ed her off wholesale mare schmuck new spew
So... sell a beer trucker doodoo
Foes go to hell in a seersucker muumuu
[Verse 2: Guilty Simpson]
DOOM!
Guilty!
Dilla, Dilla!
Grind for the paper, hot like Sanka
Top notch ranker, clock my banker
Dead Presidents, sick dudes - I'm the medicine
Storming in your residence when I'm in my element
No contest, I get hot and go unconscious - ya boy is automatic
Now go play in traffic, the flow is graphic
With no theatrics, still rock sold out shows for practice
Call it a walk-through. Def. The wrong one to talk to
Beef ain't nothin I can't stick a fork through
We break bread, eat good, and pour brew
Cheers!
Come toast to the one with respect to the utmost on more than one coast
GS, check the style I splash, to make the listener wanna pile my cash
King of the Hill, money is the issue
It's all on me tell 'em bring me the bill
Daddy Warbucks, shift gears in the armored truck
Like Big Daddy Kane when I warm it up
Fans scream for the two man team
Doom and Guilty - Hip Hop supreme
The denim is blue but the pockets green
Big knots in jeans, you can't stop the kings
He wants to get his girlfriend? Go get your girlfriend
Ay! And now...you is 'bout to dance, like you ain't never danced before
[Verse 1: MF DOOM]
This one'll have you get the trash hash out the stash, as they say, "Ash to Ash"
Jewels free rash, fools ask the mask
Need me? I'll be peeing in the pool, ka-splash!
You may feel a slight drizzle
Villain—give a squealer a candlelight vigil
Couldn't find a healer with a whistle in the line of sight
And he hold the mic like a fistful of dynamite
They wonder how he built his C-note tower
All before zero hour it's tree grow power
Then he go shower to scour off the funk
And watch a so-called comp cower soft punk
The god is the oddest fella you'll find
Paid to speak his mind like Father Jealous Divine
He came to rock the banquet, rank it
Along with two of the baddest broads to act stank wit, blank spit
Dilla raise the beat like a anchor banker
Overstand the shoot and plays the heat
And shank a wanker
He drank a tank of angst, thank ya
Guess what? Chicken head butts
Hit a rhyme on time, like kicked 'em dead in the nuts
Oh... the victim had guts
Prepare to stick 'em, I'll slick 'em in the cut
Go... sell a spear chucker voodoo
Got'ed her off wholesale mare schmuck new spew
So... sell a beer trucker doodoo
Foes go to hell in a seersucker muumuu
[Verse 2: Guilty Simpson]
DOOM!
Guilty!
Dilla, Dilla!
Grind for the paper, hot like Sanka
Top notch ranker, clock my banker
Dead Presidents, sick dudes - I'm the medicine
Storming in your residence when I'm in my element
No contest, I get hot and go unconscious - ya boy is automatic
Now go play in traffic, the flow is graphic
With no theatrics, still rock sold out shows for practice
Call it a walk-through. Def. The wrong one to talk to
Beef ain't nothin I can't stick a fork through
We break bread, eat good, and pour brew
Cheers!
Come toast to the one with respect to the utmost on more than one coast
GS, check the style I splash, to make the listener wanna pile my cash
King of the Hill, money is the issue
It's all on me tell 'em bring me the bill
Daddy Warbucks, shift gears in the armored truck
Like Big Daddy Kane when I warm it up
Fans scream for the two man team
Doom and Guilty - Hip Hop supreme
The denim is blue but the pockets green
Big knots in jeans, you can't stop the kings