Released: January 12, 2002

Featuring: MF Grimm

Songwriter: MF Grimm MF DOOM

Producer: Metal Fingers

[MF Grimm]
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

[MF Doom]
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

MF DOOM

Daniel Dumile (July 13, 1971 – October 31, 2020), a.k.a. MF DOOM, (who also rapped under further alter egos Viktor Vaughn and King Geedorah and in the collaborative project Madvillain) was an English-born American hip-hop artist, best known for his “super villain” stage persona and unique lyricism. In 1988, he formed the group K.M.D.—which stands for “Kausing Much Damage”—with his brother, DJ Subroc. At the time, his stage name was Zev Love X. KMD was eventually signed to Elektra Records after some minor hype, and they released one album titled Mr. Hood. In 1993, before the release of their second album, Black Bastards, Subroc was struck and killed by a car. After his brother’s death, Dumile quit rapping and lived on benches for three years. He soon began rapping underground with his now iconic mask.

This disguise was based on a prop mask from the May 2000 film, Gladiator. In 1998, DOOM told Ego Trip, “it’s music we’re selling, not my face.” You can see how DOOM’s mask changed through the years here. Dumile then adopted the MF DOOM identity, based on Marvel supervillian Doctor Doom. Although, he told an interviewer that the name was actually a nickname from his

Yeah and for the record I didn’t get the idea from [Doctor Doom]… [laughs]. I been Doom ever since I was born, my momma call me Doom so…