Trotskyite Dolemite Money Stacked to Golem Height by Zero reference Lyrics
The trotskyite dolemite, my money stacked to golem height
The streets a golden blight, like king midas done right
The scrotal chernoby, my seed’ll go postal
Psycho locals think global, so construct your own bolthole
After a decade staring out the window
Prepare to go loco, my flow classic as rococco
And ricotta shells’ll make a new domehole
For y'all man-testing bonobos
Who want to throw blows
And ricotta shells’ll make a new domehole
For y'all
Man-testing bonobos, who want to throw blows
‘cause any emcee who tries to ace the kid
Has as much chance as a monkey
Piloting their own spaceship
No matter what Werner Von Braun has to say, slick
I demands all emcees
Commit self-abasement
In your parents basement
Now y’all some shamed men
And i hope that after this, y'all be some changed men
Hand me two nines, and i will aim them
And deliver you a century
In one creation
And lamentation, and barbarous displacement
History’s a wastebin, y'all fools be clutchin' air
And fakin' , while all the daughters and i
Get busy baby-makin' -- y'all just crustacean
I be the top mammal, well-groomed and cannibal
Cruisin’ to the red planet
In the cadiilac bonneville
To collapse reality
Cause when i get to mars i drop a rhyme
To stop causality
A heavyweight with time froze
Like an exposed nose
In chicago, when it's real cold
Yes, my sole objective is mad dissemination
Droppin' rhythm and rhyme, complete with insinuation
Of much dime impregnation (gettin money fuckin honies)
To compete with the seed: of the plain
Of the lord, of the father of the golden horde
The one and only ghengis khan
Whose dna still rolls strong
I bet he and i would get along
At least inside this song
Now am i right, or am i wrong?
I'm layin' claim to your spine and frame
When the track nods
And your head bumps off the game
Simple and plain, i'm on another level
Other than sane
Lord of the fresh and plain
Creator of the flesh and the pain
For now i'm finished with my voice and pen
Dj touch the disc, cut and scratch it
Y'all can let time start again
The streets a golden blight, like king midas done right
The scrotal chernoby, my seed’ll go postal
Psycho locals think global, so construct your own bolthole
After a decade staring out the window
Prepare to go loco, my flow classic as rococco
And ricotta shells’ll make a new domehole
For y'all man-testing bonobos
Who want to throw blows
And ricotta shells’ll make a new domehole
For y'all
Man-testing bonobos, who want to throw blows
‘cause any emcee who tries to ace the kid
Has as much chance as a monkey
Piloting their own spaceship
No matter what Werner Von Braun has to say, slick
I demands all emcees
Commit self-abasement
In your parents basement
Now y’all some shamed men
And i hope that after this, y'all be some changed men
Hand me two nines, and i will aim them
And deliver you a century
In one creation
And lamentation, and barbarous displacement
History’s a wastebin, y'all fools be clutchin' air
And fakin' , while all the daughters and i
Get busy baby-makin' -- y'all just crustacean
I be the top mammal, well-groomed and cannibal
Cruisin’ to the red planet
In the cadiilac bonneville
To collapse reality
Cause when i get to mars i drop a rhyme
To stop causality
A heavyweight with time froze
Like an exposed nose
In chicago, when it's real cold
Yes, my sole objective is mad dissemination
Droppin' rhythm and rhyme, complete with insinuation
Of much dime impregnation (gettin money fuckin honies)
To compete with the seed: of the plain
Of the lord, of the father of the golden horde
The one and only ghengis khan
Whose dna still rolls strong
I bet he and i would get along
At least inside this song
Now am i right, or am i wrong?
I'm layin' claim to your spine and frame
When the track nods
And your head bumps off the game
Simple and plain, i'm on another level
Other than sane
Lord of the fresh and plain
Creator of the flesh and the pain
For now i'm finished with my voice and pen
Dj touch the disc, cut and scratch it
Y'all can let time start again