Lyrics MF Doom – Kon Karne
Text:
Darker than the East river, larger than the Empire State
Where the beasts to guard the barbed wire gate is on the job not my fate
Tired of the wait till the villain bring deliverance from the dire straits, fire at a higher rate
Why’d they make the liars, fliers scatter, buy a plate, isolate the wires
A real price saver way to acquire nice whips
What a steal for real on wheels of steel
Stunner a funner summer number one meal deal bummer
A bizarre phenomenon is your armor on
Take your cash, Karma, or break your fast, Ramadan
Transaction drama, aww come on Barney
Clack clack, pardon me, whack rap con carne
He came to feed the childrens like Sally Struthers
After that he’s going back to Cali where’s the (Love is)
Wilder than the Nile, hold power like the great pyramids of Giza
And stay leanin’ like the tower of Pisa
Give him something he can feel that’s soft to squeeza
Raw with the pen and on the mic off the hezza
Get shot off that wide eyed talk
If he had a pot he’d still piss on the sidewalk
Can’t take the street out the street person
Lookin’ for the perfect beat coercion into heat burstin’
They couldn’t spot him on the spot date
Got the only tape that comes with a free hot plate
Whoever do get to see me sing
With the 3D ring sittin’ stationary like B.B. King
Can see how it really sting, it ain’t no front row
Standing room only at the motocross stunt show
The ruckus ain’t up to Snuffleupagus
Me and Sub is like the brown Smothers Brothers (Love is)
Vaster than the seven seas, bigger than Mount Kilimanjaro
If they don’t know, fill them in tomorrow on the horror show
A mental note, return Bob’s record
Swear to god before he gets a job, he robs Eckerd
Blessed with a hot flow, tested, it got dough
Invested in stress the best to finesse an opto
As I reminisce never forgot when I was very broke
Shot the Henny straight couldn’t afford to cop the cherry coke
Or should I say broke with wealth?
To know enough to give them just enough rope to yoke theyself
Plan B before I take the ring and pawn it
The long arm of the law couldn’t even put they fingers on it
Dog gone it, do the statistics
How he bust lyrics was too futuristic for ballistics
And far too eccentric for forensics
I dedicate this mix to Subroc the Hip Hop Hendrix
In my pocket, a note
(It’s from my father
From the guard’s whip, is this a trick?)
Why would I resort to trickery?
You’re already a prisoner
What do I gain by deceiving you?
(You can’t blame me for being suspicious)
No (Love is)
