"Professor Booty's Travelling Medicine Show"
Featuring the talents of the Doktor Manhattan and the incomparable Mad Sheep
beat by

The Doc's a doctor and the Sheep's a specialist
I specialize in the freshest of embellishments
My lyrics flow from west to east: they hella mint
Don't even push atomic weight like elements
Test the technician, you'll be wishin' you was aborted
Your portion of pie must be petitioned to be awarded
The beat extortionist, the rhyme contortionist
I bend my tongue into new dialects: lingual coercionist
My version is X dot 0 and the next hot ho
Who try to vex Otto will get the hex auto-
matically, the Sheep rhymes emphatically
I'm glad to be battling MCs to the phat degree
That you can't grab on these, gravity holds you down
Depravity describes your sound, cavities are found
In your grill, so chill with that rabbit in your blood, chump
Give you one chance to run, but if you feelin' froggy, jump

Jump Up, Jump Up, if you down with the kings
Sit Down, Sit Down, if you ain't up on things
Shake It, Shake It, if the booty ain't movin'
Move It, Move It, keep it shakin' and groovin'

Rated strictly on cheese, I'm worth a dozen MCs
You keep yours in gold chains, I'll keep mine in CDs
Because these bad times now won't be the worst you see
I'm like MTV News, you heard it first from me
When the last days come I'll be chillin' in the dark
Writin' rhymes by candlelight with a fifth of Maker's Mark
The last of the white hot microphone controllers
You try to bite on me you find my knuckles near your molars
Fightin' like Iron Mike slippin' off the Zoloft
I just might start killin' y'all when I go off
Not killin' literally, I kill linguistical
Beats to rock you bodily, words rock metaphysical
Kid, you're disingenuous, I dis you, I'm ingenious
Often eat at Big Boy, it's the freshest and the cleanest
Casting out suckas like I'm casting a flyreel
So fresh, you asking yourself, is this guy real?

Jump Up, Jump Up, if you down with the kings
Sit Down, Sit Down, if you ain't up on things
Shake It, Shake It, if the booty ain't movin'
Move It, Move It, keep it shakin' and groovin'

Yo, why does ignorance evoke silence?
And why do you meet violence with violence?
What's with the reciprocity of this atrocity?
Why, in your rhymes, is there paucity of ferocity?
You got voracity, but your vocals are quivery
There's no velocity in your speedy delivery
So what you rhyme fast? What's that without direction?
Your tape got ejected, now Council's the selection
If it itches, scratch it. You got a hundred? I match it
Fake players can't take the heat. The fever? catch it
Like Ash and them. Checks? I'm cashing them...
If your crew pops up, like whack-a-mole, I'm bashing them
I fashion rhymes from myriad dialects
The way I do mine, known as the Lyrical Architect
My s---'s my own business and my business is the s---
Chiasmus for that ass, and that's all I done writ.

return to the Doom


©2002 Seafood Cheeselog Trio