Yikes

Lyrics

[Intro: MF DOOM and samples] "Hey, let's–" Yeah, yo, everything counts, positioning, and all that ish... "Come on!" Ish gotta be balanced... "Well..." "Come on!" "I hear you, let's go!" "And now... The Nations of the Worlds, brought to you by–" "Yikes" [Verse 1: MF DOOM] It's way too fly, like the ecliptic is fun to see Remind me of "Hey You Guys!" The Electric Company ("Hey, you guys!") Big Lil' Sci, I.D., Willabee And silly me, Villainy, in this ill-built soliloquy Came through to do the do through the tube ("Come on") To the groove and confuse your crew like Rubik's Cube ("Yikes!") The metal mask, face mangled, purple cape Found a way to smash the triangle through the circle shape Faster than a team of apes; microphone bandit Taller than the solar system nine known planet ("Yikes!") Enough to leave your mind blown, ain't it? Keep a open mind, don't take things for granted "DINNINT!" MC's seem to be slushed out They must be still got the wool over their eyes, like Mushmouth ("Hey!") It's like a goldrush in the South For the truth, beyond shadow of a doubt – cut it out [Verse 2: Inspector Willabee] Aiyyo, who tapped me? (Who tapped me?) About to get real ill And still kill two birds with one Subroc when my pen spills ("Yikes!") Still coolin', chillin', making papers (Papers) Acting stupid, running capers (Capers) Acting like Biz, giving skeezers "The Vapors" (Vapors) ("Yikes!") Now can I remember, or was I really "Dead Bent"? (Bent!) When this chick tried to get me for all shillings and pence (Yo, give me all my shillings and pence, right now, right now) Oh yeah, that makes me think of Sly when he was alive (Live!) The first cat that took me to the country and before he moved to Now-Y And I was a little guy, hanging around older cats With fat dookie ropes and fly Gucci hats ("Hey!") Fucking around with black shoe polish, writing my name on the wall My theme through life Slick Rick, "Lick The Balls" ("Lick The Balls!" Yikes) And here I am with Dumile (Dumile) The city psycho-social (What?) single, no more, no less, unless I say Inspect Willa-Dash wigs out And gets jiggy bling Platinum and swigged out (On what?) On old Grandad ("Who, me?") Oh yeah I'm buggin' (Yeah, I'm buggin') Sorta like when my daughter's mother told me she had a bun in the oven Aiyyo, don't even try to mess with me to the exit Messin' around on the mic, I'll leave the rhyme pregnant (Pregnant) [Hook: Lil' Sci] "YIKES!" Whenever we picking up mics it's like "YIKES!" Whenever we blowing up shows it's like "YIKES!" Whenever we taking control of our destiny Taking Hip-Hop to next degree – "YIKES!" Whenever we picking up mics it's like "YIKES!" Whenever we blowing up shows it's like "YIKES!" Whenever we taking control of our destiny Taking Hip-Hop to next degree "YIKES!" [Verse 3: Lil' Sci] ("You know who!") Holy smokes! You don't want to mess with these MCs, 'cause We've been rhymin' ever since we had "Peachfuzz" For each of us, it's been a ten year span now Even back then, I knew one day we'd lay this jam down Smoother version of 'Return Of The Boom Bap' M.F. to the Scienz – consider yourself DOOMed, black ("You know!") Packing mics like chrome piece Styles stay fat like obese Whether written or off the dome piece ("Yikes!") Carbon copy MC's getting real sloppy, y'all Won't even waste my time going back and forth, like volleyball Riding tracks like trolley cars The last thing on my mind is selling my soul, becoming a shining star (Nahhh!) Can't even consider it A real tight cat, I'll let a brother know if I ain't feeling it ("Yikes!") ("Really...? You ain't feelin' it?") Not even a little bit Half these cats trying to pass ignorance for havin'-sense ("Hey!") But we give them no pity, y'all Scienz of Life, MF DOOM, down to the titty ball ("Yikes!") (Yo, what you say?) I said, we give them no pity, y'all Scienz to the M.F., on down to the titty ball [Verse 4: ID 4 Windz] The supersonic ex-villain, 'Six Million' 'Bionic' Twisted Smirnoff Ice, sipping the liquid tonic Pull the bubonic tag, the man hunt Circle dot – now you got to review my microphonics Do the economics, 4 Windz engulfed in standoff Burning tags with camfrost, the man's lost Without a mic pop-a-stoppa, a handoff We ran raw over tracks And banned all rappers that's wack ("You know who!") Scoop the Saturn, loop the drum track Yo, we live and direct, transmitting text, yo, the pro prospect ("Yikes!") BX the birth rest, made it first correct In transmitting, threaten your sound set System, profound prism, like the Sun solar Joints are soft like clothes are ("Yikes!") Performing Arts Director moves like the martyr connector Reflection rays like Nine Ether the bomb piece Complete vision, medicate conniption off the rhythm A wisdom permission admission – cop the LP, listen 4 Windz the all night living a brawl fight Kicking drum beats, ("Yikes!") spits 'til my lung ribs Chest expands thunderous We run in red like stop lights all night [Interlude] "That's not normal! I know normal...!" [Verse 5: Inspector Willabee] Ain't it funny when I get up in the morning, and I Jump in the shower, scrub my body, then I get out and dry Throw on some clothes, all of my oil, then I tie up my locks Put on my shoes, put on my cap, and leave my door unlocked Walk down the block, go in the store, and then I get me a drink Walk over to the park, I sit down on the bench, and I think How the Sun is shinin' down all up on my face A nice cool breeze is blowin', and I'm chillin' in space I'm blowing through the hazy fog, like the exhale of smoke Awakened out my daydream by my man, he inhaled then choked It's just a pretty nice day, and I'm feelin' quite fine Chillin' in my habitat, and I'm submerged in my mind Then we get up off the streets, and we hit up some stores We get some incense and dashikis, 'cause I'm goin' on tour Go to All Eyes On Egypt to get me some books So I could recitate my prayers and put some jewels in my hooks So, maybe the next time, maybe the next rhyme Maybe the next beat? Or maybe the next line!