His name's Doom

They wonder just who is he

But don't worry

Believe me he'll get busy when it comes to...

Poetry he's got plenty la la la...

la la la la la la



Jump em in like jump rope

Double-Dutch then turn on the mic with a thumb stroke

Subtle touch, cuddle clutch, is this thing on?

Like the fling with Mrs King Kong, this spring gone

Sing a song of slap happy crappiness

He came to flow like it was strapped to his nappy chest

Surely I jest, the best on a wireless

Mic not an eye test, yet I digress

But why stress, try an remember when

Maybe bit the tender skinned babysitter Gwendlyn

The type ta hit and run and go tell a friend 

Word to el muerto cucaracha exo-skeleton 

He know, flow like inter-stellar wind

Tow a rap jinn by his toe and to hell again

Ahem! 1-2 check me too

Loose wreck, see through your Goose Neck EQ



Chorus



Ay! If I may interject?

Rap these days is like a pain up in the neck

Cornier and phonier than a play fight

Take two of these and don't phone me on the late night

The beat won't fail me 

With more rhymes than times he wash his hands and feet daily

And all that kerosene ain't cheap

Villain been deep since a teenage creep, peep

He always was a gentleman 

And kept a pen and a pencil in his mental den 

Right there next to where the Rolodex was

Before it turned up all burnt by his solar plexus

He don't know his own strength

When he's on the bone it's like the microphone length.. and with 

Ain't it funky like dingy socks

Feel the full effect off cassette in your Benzi Box