Dr. Dooom - Wild and Crazy lyrics

DJ Q-Bert scratches "right, now here we go"

A lot of rappers are wack
They cold booty from the buttcrack
Swingin skills to chill
That's how I pay the bills funk blaster
Tweakin bass like I'm Jimmy Castor
Model H3OC, plus another thousand
Kickin lyrics for ASCAP, brothers I be housin
Splittin publishin, gainin points
Rappin back again
My unique style, and certain words
Watch me make em blend
Manifest bandwidth, spread out
With computer data
Suckers don't know, acute intelligence
What's the matter solo fiend
I cut your legs with the guillotine
Snap back
Rip utensils props in your paperback
Gettin rectums, doin jobs like I'm Dr giggles
Servin em well
I stop their anals up with pickles
With operation to give
The room an atmosphere cyclops will walk
Frankenstein still standin here
Watch the hand out the ground, Chiller

It's wild and crazy the moon is out
Tonight it's time for experiments
It's wild and crazy
A fetus in the jar, I got the little baby

Two o'clock, still dark, my flashlight
Huntin suit right in front of your building
With live bear every year takin horns
From moose and wild bulls and capricorns
I got your face in the frame
Inside the living room while kids watch 13
I'm in the back scope and zoom
Sesame Street, you play that beat
I'mma step to Pete
With nuclear bombs, and word to mom
I'mma blow his arms six shot rhyme
My forty-four is made by Charter Arms
I put some diss in the steps
And damage all your reps
Get off the hooks in project
Style like Bernard Goetz
What's the matter, kid you scared
Come and do the bid
Inmates'll damage your tapes
You're nervous liftin weights
I open cell block C, go battle Mr silly
I don't see nothin', I think
They raped the rapper, really

DJ Q-Bert scratches "I'm
The ultimate" "emcee!"

Walkin streets with shopping carts
A live alligator hold your pitbull back
Let's spend some money on the elevator
Your dog is bound to lose and have a funeral
You can call landlords
Injects on my rent checks bug Man is back
You project people better watch their necks
Spittin flim-flam, rappers still smokin crack
Suckers get pantylined
And spots on the hiney crack
I do much work, on heavy stomachs like Levert
Put up some money
I bet my tools'll make your rectum hurt
Black exposed em
For you don't want to mess with me
I seek in your girl's box
And cover your publicity
Sequence first, and drop the facts on DAT