MF DOOM — Who You Think I Am?

[Produced by MF DOOM] [Intro: Megalon] Who you think I am, but who you want me to be? [Verse 1: King Ceasar] When I rock, jock niggas in shellshock Don’t watch the birdie, watch the clock go tick-tock I rip shop, I make your girl’s 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 coming 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, he used to be our friend though Yeah, but that’s the reason I don’t really like to lend dough [Verse 2: Rodan] From the corner, cylindrical triangle hat says “Dunce,” lyrics precise Like forensical science, leave you entangled for months Trying to figure who done it, you fronted, got your shit stunted Didn’t have to be that way. Some saw the light coming and they shunned it For the wickedness of those who despise life and worship death Be a savage, match shit eye-for-eye, tooth-for-tooth, breath-for-breath In the last days of the countdown, shit is just that drastic Write journals like Hebrew prophets, study math like an Aztec [Hook: Megalon] Loved not for who you think I am but who you Want me to be, a true thugging emcee True thugs with no strings attached I wanna give you my slugs and don’t wanna take ‘em… [Verse 3: Megalon] Box sprays with my box-cutter in my boxers Shots sprayed on the cops’ hostages, we rastas, Rockaway Boulevard, got love obnoxious, got five Cops today for my Rockaway niggas that rock braids, got paid A-Rock, you know how I rock. Meet me at The Lobster’s. I suggest I should dress proper Copped a buzz, I copped a Dutch, I got a lot of love With no strings attached [Verse 4: Kamackeris] Rhymes, rhymes, rhymes, we got plenty Dimes, dimes, dimes, too many Sparked up and chat, you keep counting I do my thing, jealous niggas keep doubting Rock ‘n’ roll, lock ‘n’ load Emcees out for pots of gold, we stop ‘em cold In their tracks and take all their chipseses All their DATs, all their bullshit mixeses Give ‘em credit? Nah, dead it. We just Flip the callisthenic, toss the Andy Pettitte to set it We grand-slamming and never bystanding And pussy emcees we abandon [Verse 5: King Geedorah] Flew in from Monsta Island just to rag shit with jet lag With brothers specialized in 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 show I dip, dip, dive Memorize like Iomega zip drive Go to the bar to drink to get soberer, King Geedorah Eat the head of a king cobra like Ginkoba [Verse 6: Kong] Kong in the cut like cold meat, I hold heat so sweet Roll deep with no beef. Those that doze deep Closed sheets foes chose to speak with. Reach over To reload the reef, swift from feet to teeth, keep Kongcrete parallel to body ‘til the next male Shotties and hotties still waiting to exhale Smell the bloodbath when slugs caught, slugs passed In bloodsport, bugged laugh and bugged thoughts caught Some eyes, make the K-Slash stagger like a Bocker drinking 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 album’s knocker, hit the liquor Quicker than a quicker picker-upper girl and Stick her, I leave more nuts than a Snicker, kick her To the curb, punk a bitch, stomp a chick For now call me Kong, Monsta Isle, Monsta Click (Blao!) [Hook: Megalon] Loved not for who you think I am but who you Want me to be, a true thugging emcee True thugs with no strings attached I wanna give you my slugs and don’t wanna take ‘em back