Live

Dr. Dooom - Live

Chorus: x3

Is it live, live, live, live, live

(evil laughter)

Verse one:

I heard your CD is wack wasn't fucking impressed

Who's the nigga with the big mouth

I live your ass ?erect? and bit off with a lion's

mouth

Your hypeman sound like a bitch that switch

Y'all niggas need to be around when my dick itch

Yo TNT these niggas acting wild like they homo

But they trying to see me fuck it I'm a pull up in a

Ford van

Let these niggas know I'm a give em a permanent suntan

Walk in your studio session

Damage your crew in the vocal booth with a thirty-inch

Smith and Wesson

Dr. Doom on your intercom pressing your girl all night

with a fucking

bomb

I'm a move the tattoos off all these MCs

Let me make a sandwich first with government cheese

Uncle Black got a new sawed-off

When them booty kids show up we gone blast they ass

off

Niggas be mean mugging wide eyed smoking that dust

I'm a send Tony Lou with a bazooka blow smoke in they

tour bus

In a yellow Caprice Classic

I got a wig on them city boys ain't gon' recognize all

four of us

Jay and John with fifty cousins from the Bolding

family

We ?roll and amp? G

The fuck y'all talking about

I'm moving a different route

Grab the carbines from under the couch

See you on the Ferris wheel at Coney Island

I'm not gon' be smiling

Magnum waiting for your ass

Yall gon' see my face, fuck a mask

(evil laughter)

Chorus: x4

Verse two:

Smearing your mailbox

With peanut butter and jelly with pickles from the

deli

Black shoe polish on your glass table I'm ready and

able

Going on the roof

When the pay-per-view fight come on click off the

cable

Harass you to move

Leaving ?poisoned rat cole slaw? around your toilet

stool

While you scream fuck you

I'm a cross the street eating Popeye's Cajun rice

In a station wagon with hot beans

Taking a coffee break back in the house

Giving your Chihuahuas

Ex-lax with a hot bowl of Quaker State

Leaving the front room

Dropping bombs on your fur coat with a box, ka-boom

Watching the Mets putting shit on your TV sets

In the shower

You won't be able to watch a program with remote

controls

For seventy hours check out your sore ribs

The screen is gritty

Everybody's starting to look green on Rap City

Take your receipt, give your wallet with nine hundred

bucks

To a retarded kid in a wheel-chair

Coming up the street

Walking up the main avenue

I'm passing you

With a leather coat that looks similar to yours

Fuck you

You looking at me

I'm a start walking behind you

Act like I'm pantomiming you

Talking to police men

Chewing a arm

And joined by a black and white squad car

With binoculars watching you very far

(What's up motherfuckers)

(evil laughter)

Chorus: x4

Is it live, live, live, live, live