Looks like it's gonna be a great day today
To get some fresh air like a stray on a straightaway
Hey you, got a light? Nah, a Bud Light
Early in the morning, face crud from like a mud fight
Lookie here, it's just the way the cookie tear
Prepare to get hurt and mangled like Kurt Angle rookie year
The rocket scientist, with the pocket wine list
Some even say he might need some p-sychiatrist
DOOM, are you pondering what I'm pondering?
Yes, but why would the darn thing be wandering?
She's like a foundling, barely worth fondling
My posse's on Broadway like Mama I Want to Sing
Mad plays the bass like the race card
Villain on the case to break shards and leave her face scarred
Groovy, dude! Not to prove to be rude
But this stuff is like what you might put on movie food
Uh, what is jalapeños?
Get it like a whuppin' when you holla at your seniors
Dolla he can overhear the hashish vena
He just came from over there, the grass is greener
Last wish: I wish I had two more wishes
And I wish they fixed the door to the matrix, there's mad glitches
Spit so many verses sometimes my jaw twitches
One thing this party could use is more... booze
Put yourself in your own shoes
And stay away from all those pairs of busted Timbs you don't use
He only keep 'em to decorate
If you wanna peep him, select a date
And bring a deep check, like "Check, mate"
I kid you not, on the dotted line signed
Ever since a minor, kids considered him some kind of Einstein
On a diamond mine grind, she was dumb fine
But not quite the type that you might want to wine and dine
Couldn't find a pen, had to think of a new trick
This one he wrote in cold blood with a toothpick
On second thought, it's too thick
His a**istant said: "Doom, you sick," he said "True" through acoustics
Psycho, his flow is drowned in Lawry's seasoning
With micropower he's sound and right reasoning
It's easy as pi, 3.14
One more one false move and they're done for
To get some fresh air like a stray on a straightaway
Hey you, got a light? Nah, a Bud Light
Early in the morning, face crud from like a mud fight
Lookie here, it's just the way the cookie tear
Prepare to get hurt and mangled like Kurt Angle rookie year
The rocket scientist, with the pocket wine list
Some even say he might need some p-sychiatrist
DOOM, are you pondering what I'm pondering?
Yes, but why would the darn thing be wandering?
She's like a foundling, barely worth fondling
My posse's on Broadway like Mama I Want to Sing
Mad plays the bass like the race card
Villain on the case to break shards and leave her face scarred
Groovy, dude! Not to prove to be rude
But this stuff is like what you might put on movie food
Uh, what is jalapeños?
Get it like a whuppin' when you holla at your seniors
Dolla he can overhear the hashish vena
He just came from over there, the grass is greener
Last wish: I wish I had two more wishes
And I wish they fixed the door to the matrix, there's mad glitches
Spit so many verses sometimes my jaw twitches
One thing this party could use is more... booze
Put yourself in your own shoes
And stay away from all those pairs of busted Timbs you don't use
He only keep 'em to decorate
If you wanna peep him, select a date
And bring a deep check, like "Check, mate"
I kid you not, on the dotted line signed
Ever since a minor, kids considered him some kind of Einstein
On a diamond mine grind, she was dumb fine
But not quite the type that you might want to wine and dine
Couldn't find a pen, had to think of a new trick
This one he wrote in cold blood with a toothpick
On second thought, it's too thick
His a**istant said: "Doom, you sick," he said "True" through acoustics
Psycho, his flow is drowned in Lawry's seasoning
With micropower he's sound and right reasoning
It's easy as pi, 3.14
One more one false move and they're done for