Dr. Dooom - Live Lyrics
South bronx, new york(evil laughter)Chorus: x3Is it live, live, live, live, live(evil laughter)Verse one:I heard your cd is wack wasnt *****ing impressedWhos the nigga with the big mouthI live your ass ? erect? and bit off with a lions mouthYour hypeman sound like a ***** that switchYall niggas need to be around when my dick itchYo tnt these niggas acting wild like they homoBut they trying to see me ***** it Im a pull up in a ford vanLet these niggas know Im a give em a permanent suntanWalk in your studio sessionDamage your crew in the vocal booth with a thirty-inch smith and wessonDr. doom on your intercom pressing your girl all night with a *****ingBombIm a move the tattoos off all these mcsLet me make a sandwich first with government cheeseUncle black got a new sawed-offWhen them booty kids show up we gone blast they ass offNiggas be mean mugging wide eyed smoking that dustIm a send tony lou with a bazooka blow smoke in they tour busIn a yellow caprice classicI got a wig on them city boys aint gon recognize all four of usJay and john with fifty cousins from the bolding familyWe ? roll and amp? gThe ***** yall talking aboutIm moving a different routeGrab the carbines from under the couchSee you on the ferris wheel at coney islandIm not gon be smilingMagnum waiting for your assYall gon see my face, ***** a mask(evil laughter)Chorus: x4Verse two:Smearing your mailboxWith peanut butter and jelly with pickles from the deliBlack shoe polish on your glass table Im ready and ableGoing on the roofWhen the pay-per-view fight come on click off the cableHarass you to moveLeaving ? poisoned rat cole slaw? around your toilet stoolWhile you scream ***** youIm a cross the street eating popeyes cajun riceIn a station wagon with hot beansTaking a coffee break back in the houseGiving your chihuahuasEx-lax with a hot bowl of quaker stateLeaving the front roomDropping bombs on your fur coat with a box, ka-boomWatching the mets putting shit on your tv setsIn the showerYou wont be able to watch a program with remote controlsFor seventy hours check out your sore ribsThe screen is grittyEverybodys starting to look green on rap cityTake your receipt, give your wallet with nine hundred bucksTo a retarded kid in a wheel-chairComing up the streetWalking up the main avenueIm passing youWith a leather coat that looks similar to yours***** youYou looking at meIm a start walking behind youAct like Im pantomiming youTalking to police menChewing a armAnd joined by a black and white squad carWith binoculars watching you very far(whats up mother*****ers)(evil laughter)Chorus: x4Is it live, live, live, live, live
