Posted on Sunday, 31 October 2004 at 06:25 AM. About music.

M.F. Doom one twisted, twisted man. He's been doing work on Daedelus's new album, and someone released one of their tracks to the Internet. I've been playing it like crazy around the house the last few days, and tonight I finally sat down and figured out the lyrics:


Bro, this beat is simply retarded yo
Sound like it came off 'The Hate Ricky Ricardo Show'
Lucy on the phone, she said he not home
Woozy-eyed chrome dialed newly-fried dome
What they say when they roam, you do own
He don't need much to construe da crude poem
A few bones for an intelligent plan
A coupla grand and an elephant man hand
Bring the skeleton, you might get a whole jam
Sell it in your mom-and-pop records--the Soul Stand
Just don't tell 'im when a rock'n'roll fan
He don't eat gelatin, hot or cold ham

Y'all don't know the same Daedelus I know
Just to earn trust, he tried to make me bust a wino
He said, "Don't worry, he already dead and stinkin'"
I tapped him with a 'chete and said, "Why he still blinkin?
Untie him and do your own dirty."
He shot him and told him, "You're not worthy."
So I says, "What happened to his skull-piece?"
"A lot of y'all rappers be rappin' to dull beats."
He's Robotron's right hand
A pro-con white man with a Cali-like tan
I'm like, "Tracks is all right man, but uh... hunhh.
Where's his--where's his other foot at?"


Forget it, yo.

And all without cursing once, so I can play the track on the radio next week.

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