Released: November 4, 2003
Songwriter: MF DOOM
Producer: Nature Sounds
[Intro: Samples & MF DOOM]
I'll show the world, and more particularly those dim-witted, no-talent studio execs, that I— I'll prove that I'm the greatest soundman of all time!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm wit' it
He was a recording genius who invented this gizmo that turns bells into bombs, or something!
Wow. Gotta get outta the way of the soundwaves of those bells
[Verse]
Who got the most whips, gats and cash?
If you ask the villain, he say, "Who gives a rat's ass?"
Can't take it wit'choo you when you breathe your last
In the meaning in between "pass that grass"
Give thanks, his rank is that of big stank dank
He often time drank by the river bank
And kept a silver shank; for a calm cat
Always stayed strapped for hand-to-arm combat
For DOOM the bell tolls
Let them fools know ain't no more room in these hell holes
It's filled up to the brim with sold souls
Crackheads, dope fiends and 40s of ol' gold
Hold up, the boldest who ever sold it
Whoever dare roll up, prepare to get folded
Like Holly Hobbie, gosh golly gee
The back of Hector Hoskerish's trolly read "Wash me" (Ha, ha, ha, ha...)
Dagnabbit, the mask is like a chick magnet
Some'll let you stab it for a nic' of the babbit
They say he talk slick like Dick Cavett
A fiend for the mic and can't kick it like a sick habit (The bells)
Give him a hero's holla
Along wit' more free dough than Creflo Dollar
Holy Toledo, how he made base on The Today Show?
They say he wear a mask in case his face show
It's better than a stocking, birdbrain
Find him on the corner rockin' Mockingbird Lane
He's a odd man, Grandma
And she's a bad mamma-jamma; either squeeze the damn hammer
Or stop complainin', on the top he's remainin'
A lot of pop sensations need more proper home trainin'
The people say he's the nicest
He only wants to be left alone, to his own devices
If the price is right, he might sing a new smash
Then laugh 'n twist his Rollie Fingers moustache
Tear ya crew a new.. gash
And prepare a new batch of his own special herb goulash
Villain, the dork who talk funny
And'll put one in ya, so watch where you walk, money
Like Semy say, do more boomers, they cure tumors
And beware the Doomsta!
[Outro]
The bells toll for you! Ha, ha, ha, ha...
I'll show the world, and more particularly those dim-witted, no-talent studio execs, that I— I'll prove that I'm the greatest soundman of all time!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm wit' it
He was a recording genius who invented this gizmo that turns bells into bombs, or something!
Wow. Gotta get outta the way of the soundwaves of those bells
[Verse]
Who got the most whips, gats and cash?
If you ask the villain, he say, "Who gives a rat's ass?"
Can't take it wit'choo you when you breathe your last
In the meaning in between "pass that grass"
Give thanks, his rank is that of big stank dank
He often time drank by the river bank
And kept a silver shank; for a calm cat
Always stayed strapped for hand-to-arm combat
For DOOM the bell tolls
Let them fools know ain't no more room in these hell holes
It's filled up to the brim with sold souls
Crackheads, dope fiends and 40s of ol' gold
Hold up, the boldest who ever sold it
Whoever dare roll up, prepare to get folded
Like Holly Hobbie, gosh golly gee
The back of Hector Hoskerish's trolly read "Wash me" (Ha, ha, ha, ha...)
Dagnabbit, the mask is like a chick magnet
Some'll let you stab it for a nic' of the babbit
They say he talk slick like Dick Cavett
A fiend for the mic and can't kick it like a sick habit (The bells)
Give him a hero's holla
Along wit' more free dough than Creflo Dollar
Holy Toledo, how he made base on The Today Show?
They say he wear a mask in case his face show
It's better than a stocking, birdbrain
Find him on the corner rockin' Mockingbird Lane
He's a odd man, Grandma
And she's a bad mamma-jamma; either squeeze the damn hammer
Or stop complainin', on the top he's remainin'
A lot of pop sensations need more proper home trainin'
The people say he's the nicest
He only wants to be left alone, to his own devices
If the price is right, he might sing a new smash
Then laugh 'n twist his Rollie Fingers moustache
Tear ya crew a new.. gash
And prepare a new batch of his own special herb goulash
Villain, the dork who talk funny
And'll put one in ya, so watch where you walk, money
Like Semy say, do more boomers, they cure tumors
And beware the Doomsta!
[Outro]
The bells toll for you! Ha, ha, ha, ha...
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- The Prof. in... Convexed (2003)
- Twisted Metal Pt. 1 (2004)
- Unexpected Guests (2009)