Fiction lyrics

by

MF DOOM


[Verse 1: J Trauma]
Fake b*tches so weak, they like combustible elements
I'm harder than corundum, you pussies lookin so delicate
Talkin sh*t to me, I'll crush your whole skeleton
Haters so mad, they real salty and petulant
I say one word and make your girl wet as an ocean
You showin emotion, she likes me more cuz you're atrocious
I'm prettier than Flacko, making art like I'm Picasso
You rappers are nothing, eat y'all up like tacos
I've been it, your woman saw my di*k, she beggin
I ripped her ass and nutted on her face, happy endin
Call me Ugly Mane, I send em to the essence
You wacker than Pakyed, my music is a blessin
Uh, I smoke about two dimes and get to business
Make your b*tch twerk so much, she sweatin more than a gymnast
Make about a couple thou, that's my destiny
Rob you for your weaponry cuz that's my f*ckin specialty
And I'm at my highest supremacy, I'm killing this beat intentionally, cuz I don't give a f*ck bout actin respectfully
Not afraid to make new enemies, I'm chugging so much Hennessy, I wonder what's my current life expectancy
If she say no, I'll murder her fiance
She know I'm flyer than a V-22 Osprey
More connected than preteen b*tches on Fun Run
The only time I ever give a sh*t is when the blunt's done
Uh, and you faggots know I run this
Keep my name out your mouth unless you like crutches
f*ck a passing math grade, only counting these hundreds
Stop talking sh*t to me, your breath smell like onions!
So does the gutbox, I'll just eat from my lunchbox
How you stink and expect me to get in between your buttocks?
Gunshots be louder than my white widow, every trait of me is like a magnet for these white bimbos
Blowin on that indo, jizz up in that b*tch ho, if she gets pregnant imma throw her out the window
You gettin mad because I'm in your mama's playlist
Ion even know why you f*ck boys try to deny that I'm the greatest
On your A-List, other pussies spitting gay sh*t
You practicin ollies in the game, I'm bustin tre-flips
I ain't cool with y'all, y'all ain't cool with me, diss me in a sh*tty f*cking track, bruh, that's cool to me
Uh, it's a b*tch rapper holocaust, chain em up, slice em open, pelt em all with Molotovs
J Trauma always victorious, f*ck defeat
And now my homie Walnut Jones about to crush this beat
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