MF DOOM - One Beer Lyrics

Artist: MF DOOM Lyrics
Popularity : 50 users have visited this page.
Album: Track 4 on MM..FOOD
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I get no kick from champagne
Their alcohol doesn't
thrill me at all
So tell me why shouldn't it be
true
I get a kick out of brew
[MF Doom]
There
is only one beer left
Rappers screaming all in our ears like
we're deaf
Tempt me
Do a number on the
label
Eat up all their MC's and drink 'em under
the table like
It's on me
Put it on my tab
kid
However you get there
Foot it, Cab it, Iron horse
it
You leaving on your face forfeit
I crush the mic hold
it like the heat he might toss it
Told him tell they stole
it
He told her he lost it
She told him get off it, and a
bunch other more shit
Getting money
DT's be getting
no new leads
It's like he eating watermelon stay
spitting new seeds
It's da weed give me some of what
he's drooping off
Soon as he wake up choking like it
was whooping cough
The group been soft
First hour at the
open bar and their trooping off
He went to go laugh and get
some head by the side road
She asked him to autograph her
dareair
It read to wide load this yard bird taste like fried
toad
Turned love villain
Take pride and code
words
Crooked eye mold nerd geek with a cold
heart
Probably still be speaking in rhymes as an old
fart
Study how to eat to dine by the pizza guy
No
he's not to fly to skeet in a skezzers eye
And squeeze
her thigh
Maybe giver her curves a feel
And the same way
she feel it when she flow with nerves of steel
They call him
super when they need their back or plumbing fixed
Powers
only one left the pack comes in six
Whatever happened to two
and three
A hood tried to slide with four and five and got
caught
Like what you doing G
Don't make 'em
have to get cutting like truancy
Matter fact not for nothing
right now you and me
Looser than a pair of adidas
I hope
you bought your spare tweeters
MC's sound like
cheerleaders
Rapping and dancing like Red Head
Kingpin
Dude can't do his thing again no matter how be
blinging
You do it for the smelly hubbies
Seeds know
what time it is like it's time for tellie tubbies
Few
can do it even fewer can sell it
Take it from the dude who
wears mask like a tarded helmet
He plots shows like
robberies
In and out
One, two, three, no bodies
please
Run the cash and you won't get a wet
sweatshirt
The mic is the shootie nobody move nobody get
hurt
Bring heat like the boy I'm going to war
Came
in the door, and everybody on the floor
A whole string of
jobs like we are on tour
Everynight on the score coming to
your corner store


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