[MF Doom]nA fly tramp, that's what she called men'Cause I don't wear no Stetson hats like Paul CnAs y'all see, who give a fuck? Who know what is it?nThese styles will be flipped to the absolute exquisitenIt's like a blizzard, soon as I got home from ATLnLooked into my baby's face, my boo was like ... Well!nI know your types of clientele! Thoughts, needsnAs I held her firmly, yet gentle as the soft seanShe said, The one with the horse weave? The pretty one?nnAll crazy, had to touch the tattoo through the short sleevenWhich one you want? I'm like, If there was comp?nFuck around, a nigga like me probably run up in all three!nKing Geedorah what they call me, either caesar or baldynProbably half-boozed since last y'all saw menOn the D-low, I slaughter solo emcees, they paper-thinnIn they Polo, Nautica, or DK mennnAmen! It's funny how significance make a differencenNotice parables of three in every other inferencenFor instance: Who wanna battle? On the real?nChoose your weapon: microphone, beats, or the wheels-of-steelnI own a crown in all three for getting down without a doubtnI'd like to give a extra special outnnTo Jet Jaguar, the sun, moon and starnnThe Monster Island Czars – y'all know who you arennGet that!nn[Tommy Gunn]nComing straight from the black lungsnI rip tracks for all players that pack gunsnStack ones in packs, done and doing back-to-back runsnTo my peeps that close, so's ya' knows what's upnY'all know the dough's quick, hoes that mess with 5-O shrimp like, What?nLike they wanna shmoosh us, just to packing the pushersnI'm packing gat then bust a cap at po-ponIf they catch us and try to push usnSince when a MINY nigga don't be taking no shit?nI be that drug dealing nigga that be fucking ya' bitch!nn[MF Doom]nWhat a fella! Like Salt, Pepa, SpinderellanI came to spark the deaf, dumb and blind like Helen KellernIf I'm not with George of the Jungle, if he not with StellanOr either Priscilla, I'm doing dips on GodzillanThough y'all know he don't play, right?nTNT throws a nigga out a moving van in broad daylightnAnd he was shackled by hands and feetnThen they say he tried to escape, once his face scraped the concretenNear the curb on Monster Island, 103 StreetnWhere brothers run the risk of getting swallowed once the Beast eatnI'd rather lay in the cut, collect cash paynOnly TNT I see is Gilligan's castawaynWith Mary Jane and GingernOh, from which you spent the night by accident, I creep like a ninjanWhen the mack is bent, who can give one fuck?nGet bucked, get broke up like three-piece nun-chucksnY'all sun struck, sick to they head-piecenThree-headed beast brings the drama to a dead ceasenn(Get that money, god)nnSick to they head-piecen(Get that money, god)nn(Get that money, god)nn(Get that money, god)nnGreenbacks ... the meanest green stacks