[Verse 1: MF Grimm]

Some quote scriptures, but parrots quote

Grimm scriptures are made from scratch, my mind floats

And I got

War scars, war scrapes from war skits

Rhymes souped-up like lentil to show my mental is not accidental

My world revolves ‘cause it’s autocratic

My guns revolve, but some are automatic

Vision beyond the optical needed when living prodigal

Sleep with third eye open or get clipped like a cuticle

Conditional choices stable or critical

“Who lives? Who dies? Who strives?” is so political

Young street champs stripped of belts in pistol title shots

Heavyweight division, K.O.’s, no split decisions

Giuliani referees this hellhole, but he don’t give a fuck, so

There’s cuts, headbutts, and elbows

Drug sweeps, bullets fly, bloods splot blotches

Thugs creep, niggas died, tortured, held hostage

Actions brutal beyond belief but authentic

Rhymes genuine, thoughts are anti-synthetic

Attempt to get Jurassic, plant shit back prehistoric

Roach niggas are morbid from my acid thoughts of boric

Kidnapped, snatched, ran off, no self-extortion

Shit’s Creek, they seek demands of financial portions

Six Million Dollars, nigga, like you’re Steve Austin

‘Cause if they really love you, that’s how much love is costing

Or death will be puzzled. Jigsaw fate

Chopped up, distributed body parts in different states

Take you to spots that nobody knows

Curiosity grows as you decompose

[Verse 2: Megalon]

Lord Have mercy, Percy. Bagged up in Jersey, but don’t curse me

Six million ways to die, but none of them could hurt me. Aw

Fuck! I’m stuck in the desert, and I’m thirsty. Call-

-ing Black Jesus, “Help! Red Devils disturbing me!” but I’ma

Rise. Look into my eyes. It’s hard to survive when your mother and father

Dies. You try suicide, but all you do is cry, wrist

Bleeding, who do I believe in? Looking through

Satan’s eyes, I start hating God for no reason

Why do I feel this way? Every day, living in

Darkness, I never ever see the bright of day. I hide

Away from the sun and come out at night, squeeze

Squeeze the steel tight ‘cause if it ain’t real, it ain’t right

Now I’m up to no good, big shorty from the hood

Almost died twice, but I don’t think that I could

Last five years, did five bids. I hope I don’t have to do a 25-

-to-life bid

I gotta live, gotta feel the braille

Locked in jail, cut a nigga throat to get a cell

Black DOOM, Black DOOM, getting it done in a room

Selling crack boom, crack boom from the sun to the moon

[Verse 3: MF DOOM]

Big up, the jig is up, swig up

Chop a nigga up, but first have him schedule a pick up

If you ask me, they’re all a bunch of sick pups

Always seem to repeat the same stuff like hiccups

Nowadays, the game is all bugged out

Phony like back when Hammer tried to come thugged out

Stop it, he pulled files like Coppit

Out from under the feet of the clowns that pop shit

Nasty like spit the verse and go gargle

Don’t fit no type of profile psychological

Any last words? Time’s up like Boggle

The Supervillain run ‘em like Hamburglar, “Robble robble!”

Another one asked him, “Could I hold the microphone?”

He said, “Sorry, my brother, you gots to get your own!”

Set the tone even though he’s already known

When he get the rock, he rock on like Shep Pettibone

On the downstroke, “Good day, townsfolk!

Thank you for your vote and you all get a pound of smoke!”

The dro soon to blow, don’t make ‘em wait ‘til noon to know

The Villain’s been doing flows since many, many moon ago