Meat Grinder

(MF Doom)

Tripping off the beat kinda, dripping off the meat grinder

Heat niner, pimping, stripping, soft street minor

China was a neat signer, trouble with the script digits

Double dip/bubble lips, sorrow less midget

Borderline schizoid, sort of fine tits tho

Pour the wine hold the grind, quarter to nine, lets go

Ever since ten eleven, glad she met a brethren

Then his last style seven alligator, seven at the gates of heaven

Knocking, no answer, slow dancer, hopeless romancer, dopest flow stanzas

Yes, no Villain, Metal Face the death stroke

Guest shows, still incredible in escrow

Just say hoe, I will taste the yayo, Wild West style fest, y'all best to

lay low

Hey bro, Day Glo, set the bet, pay dough

Before the cheddar get away, you best to get Maaco

The worst haters God on perpetrated are favors

Demonstrated in the perforated Rod Lavers

... In all quad flavors, large savers

Still back in the game like Jack Lalanne

think you know the name, don't rack your brain

on a fast track to half insane

Either in a slow beat or that of speed or wrath of Kane

Laughter, pain

Doom's songs lit, in the booth, with the best host

Doing bong hits, on the roof, in the west coast

He's at it again

Mad at the pen

Glad that we win a tad fat in a bad hat for men

Grind the cinnamon, Manhattan warmongers

You can find the Villain in satin congas

The vans screeches

The old man preaches

About the gold sand beaches

The cold hand reaches

For the old tan ellesse's

... Jesus