Connections abound with our previous songs the last featuring Jay-Z with Beyoncé, and before Gnarls Barclay working with CeeLo Green. Producer Danger Mouse (aka Brian Joseph Burton) has, among his many other collaborations (The Grey Album combining Jay-Z's The Black Album, and his reworking of the Beatles' White Album) another under the joint moniker of Danger Doom – 2005's The Mouse and the Mask. On this here working with the extraordinary rapper and wordsmith MF Doom, who also has connections with all of these artists. Doom, aka Daniel Dumile sounds American, but is actually English, and is noted for his highly original and invented wordplay. He writes songs about all sorts of strange subjects, including his love of food, but here, using skits and samples, film and TV clips, and no shortage of self-parody, he talks wittily about the world of hip hop and his part in it:
Scared of a bunch of water, then get out the rain
Order a rapper for lunch and spit out the chain
Then kick a lungee off the tip of his Timbo
And trick a honey dip into a game of strip limbo
Odd - he couldn't find no remorse
A wink is as good as a nod to a blind horse
Of course his technique was from a divine source
Never knew the price of ice, or what swine cost
One guy tried to bite the heat
That's when he discovered the other other white meat
Ohhhh! The one they hate so well
He sure keeps it psycho like the old Bates Motel
They came to ask him for at least some new tracks
But only got confronted by the beast with two backs
Knock - Mouse is a made man
Villain laid it down like the best laid plan
Belle the Cat, who the hell is that near the middle
Got y'all but it's not all beer and Skittles
Prepare the vittles, got riddles and spittles
Crystal clear to the jot, or the tittle
Sssst! It's hot off the griddle
Came to take the cake whether it's a lot, or a little
Kaboom; DOOM is nervous large
You could tell by his blooming room service charge
... Dark and tall to boot
The only thing was wrong was he was bald as a coot
Used to rent a van from Peter Pan, the red and tan
And keep the human foot for his dead man's hand
This was when the mask was brand spanking new
Before it got rusted, from dranking all the brew
Stanking too, pew
Kept all his earnings in the bank and his shoe
Spat what he knew, energy for true
To all fake rappers, twenty-three skidoo
Excuse you, any room in the class front?
For a blast of the blunt, shrooming since last month
Doom a human in the Mask, born to stunt
Danger zooming past mad fast on the hunt
Keep your streets, we got the city neatly conquered
Discretely with the CD till they be completely bonkered
The fans demanded it, handled it, swallow it
His own brand of shit, if only he could bottle it
Hmm... Nah, shit could get messy
The feds tried to torture him for the secret recipe
He said it's no use, I only know half
No speaka de english, I only do the math
... BZZT! Felt no pain
His brain was saturated with cocaine and Rogaine
He said - try scan, no thing, three-card dead
Fly man go for bling, he got bled
I jam over sting, see spots red
I am "Sofa King, We Todd Ed"
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