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MF DOOM - Beef Rapp (Official Audio)

The official audio for "Beef Rapp" from MF DOOM's album MM..FOOD (20th Anniversary Edition) LISTEN/BUY: rse.lnk.to/MMFOOD20yr VINYL/CD/MERCH: GasDrawls.com SONG CREDITS: Written & performed by MF DOOM. Produced & mixed by DOOM the metal fingered villain. Mastered by Morgan Garcia. LYRICS: Beef rap, could lead to getting teeth capped Or even a wreath for mom dukes on some grief crap I suggest you change your diet It can lead to high blood pressure if you fry it Or even a stroke, heart attack, heart disease It ain't no starting back once arteries start to squeeze Take the easy way out phony, until then They know they wouldn't be talking that bologna in the bullpen So disgusting, pardon self as I discuss this They talk a wealth of shit and they ain't never seen injustice Bust this, like a cold milk from out the toilet Two batteries, some Brillo and some foil, heat'll boil it He be better off on PC glued And it's a feud so don't be in no TV mood Every week it's mystery meat, seaweed stewed (Food, we need food!) He wears a mask just to cover the raw flesh A rather ugly brother with flows that's gorgeous Drop dead joints hit the whips like bird shit They need it like a hole in they head or a third tit Her bra smell, his card say, "Aw Hell!" Barred from all bars and kicked out the Carvel Keep a cooker where the jar fell And keep a cheap hooker that's off the hook like Ma Bell Top bleeding, maybe fella took the loaded rod gears Stop feeding babies colored sugar-coated lard squares The odd pair swears and God fears Even when it's rotten, we've gotten through the hard years I wrote this note around New Year's Off a couple of shots and a few beers, but who cares? Enough about me, it's about the beats Not about the streets and who food he 'bout to eat (With but a-) A rhyming cannibal who's dressed to kill and cynical Whether is it animal, vegetable or mineral It's a miracle how he get so lyrical And proceed to move the crowd like a old negro spiritual For a mil', do a commercial for Mello Yello Tell them devils, "Hell no, sell y'all own Jello" We hollow krills, she swallow pills He follow flea collar three dollar bills And squealed for halal veal, if y'all appeal Dig the real, it's how the big ballers deal Twirl a L after every meal ("Food!") What up? To all rappers: shut up with your shutting up And keep a shirt on, at least a button-up Yuck, is they rhymers or strippin' males? Out-of-work jerks since they shut down Chippendales They chippin' nails, DOOM tippin' scales Let alone the pre-orders that's counted off shippin' sales This one goes out to all my peoples skippin' bail Dippin' jail, whippin' tail and sippin' ale Light the doobie 'til it glow like a ruby After which, they couldn't find the Villain, like Scooby He's in the lab on some old Buddha Monk shit Overproof drunk shit, but who'd'a thunk it? Punk, try and ask why ours be better Could be the iron mask or the Cosby sweater Yes, you, who's screwed by the dude on the CD, nude ("We need food!")