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Ka-Bang! (feat. MF Doom)

Freddie, hey whats wrong with ya?

Oh no, gas!

Behold, the Armored One!|1st MF DOOM|

A grown ass man, mind from a trash can

And he kept his rhymes as aligned as a Tascam

Whoosh! Like a flash bang crash the Shazam Van

Made it with the stashed cash, and his black ash hand

Bring on the last man standing, he can hang

Did the Shang-A-Lang then caught him, Ka-Bang!

Drone flown pass, blam, ping on the dash cam

Known as a king who do rings on a mass scam

Overthrow a vast plan, shown a unmask fam'

Rock it like a sun's splash jam

She had the color, came first place on the can-can band stand

Face like Ann Landers, ask my man man-man

Bitter than a batch of tan bran from Pakistan

Don't get smacked with the practice hand

Not one to grand stand, get it on a low-low gram

Ampersand handstand gas can

|Bridge|

For every super menace there seems to be, a super hero!

To rise in fearless challenge|2nd Inspectah Deck|

I'm in the mosh pit, wilding with goth chicks

Fire, and desire, call it water for chocolate

The spark in the darkness, marvelous hard shit

Bump you off like a small part in a mob flick

Arson artist, tough customer to bargain with

No discussion, nor argument

No trust, no partnership

Respect, get me 'spect but the rest get hardship

My bars get, funky like a playoff armpit

You living in your mom's crib, driving your broad's whip

I'm on it, strong grip holding my fork with

I'm on it, strong piff, floating my thoughts with

Nah I ain't feeling what y'all spit

All of 'em talk shit, call a coroner for this corpses

Warriors I walk with, all in the conflict

Live from the battlefield swords, and horses

|Bridge|

Seconds later the villain was in the cockpit|3rd Esoteric|

Break out the fine china, tired of dining on a garbage rhymer

Quick on the draw like an art designer

Filthy like a carpet miner, masked men not from comic con

I'm hungry like Olajuwon, playing through Ramadan

Phenomenon, one stun gun for the unsung

Run run, 'fore I come undone and eat her lung lung

Um um, stuck in '95 like Rust Cohle, bust souls

Punch sneaker heads through their gum soles

Holding 'em, and folding 'em a tough soul controlling them

Emo rappers cry along like there's no Rust-Oleum

The flow is fire dog, no dalmatian, no salvation

Shall take place, this Czar with the Metal Face

Rebel based, mayday mayday

I'm out for that JJ Abram style pay day

I catch deer on foot, snatch eagles mid flight

Crashing through your skylight with Scott Summers eyesightEasy Scott baby, don't lose control

Gotta' focus all my power, into one tiny beam

Hold steady, steady

If I can't blast through, I'll burn through!

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