Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, message from the DOOM fans
Whoops, who left the whips for the coon’s hands?
I heard they want equity in the broom brands
Royalties from the cotton fields, 40 acres of moon land
Scram, quick before the portal ends
Mind the coral, especially around your dorsal fins
Could be horrible, you can go from adorable to barely moldable
I’m just warning you, possible injuries
If you wanna live long as centipedes
You gotta learn how to make lemonade from lemon trees
Going rate’s five dollars a sip
Pro tip, no rips, only smoke when the Pope’s picked
Take the whole trip, with the old swole swift
Ex-dread locked, headlock with both pits
Living off borrowed time, the clock tick faster
MCs in the class, observe the slick master
Master of man kept a handle on the craft
Like a fondue of fine-blended words that you love like a Mom Duke
Verbal diversion for the pocket-pick
To fund your favorite main chick used whip shopping trips
It’s carefully constructed
Precisely overseen and then merrily conducted
Plus, barely interupted, rarely ever fucked with
DOOM, make a Midas out of everything he touches
And that’s how the vibe goes
Two trails of rust running from out of the eye holes
Been crying like a grown man
I promise to make rappers snatch mics outta they own hands
Exactly how you taught us
We’ll take it from here, look how far you brought us
DOOM