Danger Doom

Danger Doom - Korn Dogs lyrics

rate me

[MF Doom]

One one

Two two, two

To get the dough, the Villain'll flow off of Stella D'oro

and water go off the head for the slaugter you bet your daughter

That liquor only gets you sick quicker

Take it from a honorary member, of Spitkicker

I know it's hot up in that suit with the curly 'fro

I'd rather write all night until the early show

We don't suggest you let your girly go alone

Come home all glowin with the the pearly glow

It was the super, a.k.a. super sperm

Hit her in the chin, told her rub it in like lubriderm

Finished, oh let spaz go next

Who's fault is it if her face taste like Vasiplex

... It ain't funny

Ever since a young'un sonny, take the money

His first business made each day a grand

His only comp, shorty with the spiked lemonade stand

That's how he ran his hustle

He came with a plan that took least amount of muscle

Two for one, dime frogs for the lickin

And all you can eat, "Corn dogs for the pickin"

... A seemingly modest fellow

With a DJ's ear and graffiti artist's elbow

Nose of a Mouse and the brain of two weasels

Discovered a name and new strain of the measles

He say you accidentally caught it

In sole circles and dots to those who could afford it

Once you squeezed his face through the gate

and got stuck, too much fake soy-based cheese product

Did a scheme and was in it for the Aspercreme

Slashed your team, let's see who can make Casper scream

Down to the last marine

See him as your cable man, sizin up your plasma screen

Instead of doin the jux with pistols

Or workin in the back, cookin sacks of crystals

Or runnin on logs out in deep water kickin

"Corn dogs for the pickin"

Whattup to all you dedicated dads

As stated, rap sucks Tux medicated pads

And these rappers need to gather their belongings

Or get wrapped up in they extra long thong strings

For singin the wrong things

Ain't no delayin, you playin with the Pong king

A nerd with insight and a Urkel smirk

Purposefully misplaced an invite to your circle jerk

... A bunch of men in cyphers

Fake you out tough guys and make pretend lifers

It's still a few loose screws in his face

Turn away as he pulled a phrase out his usual place

... Combination jewel case

Almost popped open if it wasn't for the drool space

Critics talkin slick chicken shit to sick men

"Corn dogs for the pickin"

Danger Doom

[skit from 12 Oz. Mouse]

Sometimes all the capitals

They don't know if you're yellin at me or not

(Damn) Well not yet

Mouse, whatever

You a mouse or uh.. (or what?)

Or hell I don't know, just thought you were a mouse or somethin

I mean you look like a damn mouse... THE mouse (maybe)

(Who are you?)

I'm the freakin corn dog king!

Thanks to it's (drool space) not cruel space for these lyrics

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