MF DOOM, Trunks - Last Laugh lyrics
Daniel Thompson Dumile, a.k.a. Zev Love X, a.k.a. Doom, a.k.a.Supervillain
[MF DOOM, Trunks - Last Laugh lyrics]
I'm landlord of the amp cord
Priest to the beats
Preach to the choir, set fire to the streets
(pick apart ya flow arm?) , torture rap
Ya weak rat put space in your bars
Control alt delete that
Heimlich flow, it got you choked up
Wanna copy something
Come and paste these nuts
Fool me once then shame on you
Second time around that joke's on rue
Ever wanted whoever get it whoever gotta
Whoever pumped it, whoever cocked it
Whoever shot 'er body shape you til your
Bones are like maracas dre with the game
Drunk on vodka playing docta
Now that's an image for the mind
I'm picture perfect in my prime
We can scrimmage for the line
Man I'm in it for the grime
And I'm in it for the shine
And you in it when it prime
And you in it for fine
I'm like a pistol wielding poacher
For all of you culture vultures
Snapping your girls over the shoulder
Boulder holder
Told you they figure they bigger?
Dig a bigger ditch beat him with a brick
Til all of his limbs twitch
Grind on his bitch til the DJ yells switch
Carved in stone that's carving out an itch
You itch for a scratch
Ain't no cure for your poems
Ain't no future to be had
From no cubicle walls
(Poe of?) disgruntled workers
See his bosses neck and choke it
Wrote his will
On the back of a pack of post-it's
On that note, I regret to inform his closest
Friends and family
His future now is hopeless
Light at the end of the tunnel
You niggas should focus
Cause what's coming, trust me
You can't afford not to notice
Yall finished, I'm just getting started
Hear yall rhyme my heart starts to harden
Priest to the beats
Preach to the choir, set fire to the streets
(pick apart ya flow arm?) , torture rap
Ya weak rat put space in your bars
Control alt delete that
Heimlich flow, it got you choked up
Wanna copy something
Come and paste these nuts
Fool me once then shame on you
Second time around that joke's on rue
Ever wanted whoever get it whoever gotta
Whoever pumped it, whoever cocked it
Whoever shot 'er body shape you til your
Bones are like maracas dre with the game
Drunk on vodka playing docta
Now that's an image for the mind
I'm picture perfect in my prime
We can scrimmage for the line
Man I'm in it for the grime
And I'm in it for the shine
And you in it when it prime
And you in it for fine
I'm like a pistol wielding poacher
For all of you culture vultures
Snapping your girls over the shoulder
Boulder holder
Told you they figure they bigger?
Dig a bigger ditch beat him with a brick
Til all of his limbs twitch
Grind on his bitch til the DJ yells switch
Carved in stone that's carving out an itch
You itch for a scratch
Ain't no cure for your poems
Ain't no future to be had
From no cubicle walls
(Poe of?) disgruntled workers
See his bosses neck and choke it
Wrote his will
On the back of a pack of post-it's
On that note, I regret to inform his closest
Friends and family
His future now is hopeless
Light at the end of the tunnel
You niggas should focus
Cause what's coming, trust me
You can't afford not to notice
Yall finished, I'm just getting started
Hear yall rhyme my heart starts to harden