Who You Think I Am?
Operation: Doomsday
歌手:MF DOOM
专辑:《Operation: Doomsday》

作词 : Gegalon, K.D., King Ghidra ...
Who you think I am, but who you want me to be?
When I rock, jock niggas in shellshock
Don't watch the birdie watch the clock go tick tock
I rip shop, I make ya girls bottom lip drop
Yo word to the truckers at the pit stop I'm hip hop
I hold heat, never forget what niggas told me, they showed me
Other emcees trying to fold, me they owe me
Yo, plus them niggas mad slow G
I got my "Get U Now," so I'm comin with my homie
Here's the plan; stick 'em up, I enter, through the window
Stoop down so we can't see our crescendo
Pass the indo, yo we used to be our friend though
Yeah but thats the reason I don't really like to lend dough
From the corners cylindrical triangle hats
Says dunce. Lyrics precise like forensical science leave you entangled for months
Tryin' to figure who done it, you fronted
Got cha shit stunted, didn't have to be that way
Some saw the light comin' in, they shunned it
For the wickedness to those whose despise life and worship death
The established matched at eye for eye, tooth for tooth, breath to breath
These are the last days of the countdown, shit is just that drastic
Write journals, like they use the prophets, study math like a Aztec
Loved not for who you think I am, but who you want me to be
A true thuggin emcee, true thugs, with no strings attached
I wanna give you my slugs and don't wanna take em
Box sprays, but with my box cutter in my boxes
Shots sprayed, who on cops high says we rastas
Rock away boulevard, got love and obnoxious
Bout five cops today, my rock away
Niggas and rock rage, got paid
A rock, you know why I rock, meet me at the Lobster's
I suggest I should dress proper
Copped a buzz, I copped a dutch
I got a lotta love, with no strings attached
Rhymes, rhymes, rhymes, we got plenty
Dimes, dimes, dimes, too many
Sparked up and chat, you keep countin
I do my thing, jealous niggas keep doubtin
Rock 'n' roll, lock 'n' load
Emcees out for pots of gold, we stop 'em cold
In they tracks an take all they chips-eses
All they dats, all they bullshit mixeses
Give 'em a credit, not debt it
We just flipped the calistetic
Toss the Andy Pettitte, you said it
We grandslam in the never boss stand
Any pussy emcee's we abandon
Flew in from Monster Island just to rag shit wit jet lag
With brothers specializin ways how us not to get bagged
Egads! I bring confusion like roll call
To emcees so-called, hoes be like "yup I told y'all"
So socialize my bio so I dip dip dive
Memorize like I-omega zip drive
Go to the bar to drink to get soberer
King Geedorah eat the head of a king cobra like ginkoba
Kong get a cut like Kobe, now hold heat
So sweet, roll deep but no beef
Those that doze deep, close sheets
Po chose to speak with, reach over to reload the piece
Slip from freak to deak, keep concrete
Parallel to body til the next male
Shotties and hotty, still waitin to exhale
Smell the blood bath a slug's caught
Slugs passed and bloodsport
Bugged laugh, a bugged thought
Caught some eyes make the case last stack a locker
Bocker, drink a vodka, hit note, like Sinatra at a opera
Drop a flocker, Orville Redenbacher
Get you, got you, shot the two L's without the proper
For the albums knocker
Hit the liquor, quicker than a quicker picker upper
Girl and stick er, I leave more nuts than a snicker
Kick er to the curb, punk a bitch, stomp a chick
For now call me Kong, Monster Isle, Monster Click (Bow!)
Loved not for who you think I am, but who you want me to be
True thuggin emcee, true thugs, with no strings attached
I wanna give you my slugs, and don't wanna take 'em back
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