Mash's Revenge - J Dilla, MF DOOM, Guilty Simpson

He wants to get his girlfriend?

Go get your girlfriend

Ay!

And now… you is 'bout to dance, like you ain’t never danced before

This one’ll have you get the trash hash out the stash, as they say, «Ash to Ash»

Jewels free rash, fools ask the mask

Need me?

I’ll be peeing in the pool, ka-splash!

You may feel a slight drizzle

Villain—give a squealer a candlelight vigil

Couldn’t find a healer with a whistle in the line of sight

And he hold the mic like a fistful of dynamite

They wonder how he built his C-note tower

All before zero hour it’s tree grow power

Then he go shower to scour off the funk

And watch a so-called comp cower soft punk

The god is the oddest fella you’ll find

Paid to speak his mind like Father Jealous Divine

He came to rock the banquet, rank it

Along with two of the baddest broads to act stank wit, blank spit

Dilla raise the beat like a anchor banker

Overstand the shoot and plays the heat

And shank a wanker

He drank a tank of angst, thank ya

Guess what?

Chicken head butts

Hit a rhyme on time, like kicked 'em dead in the nuts

Oh… the victim had guts

Prepare to stick 'em, I’ll slick 'em in the cut

Go… sell a spear chucker voodoo

Got’ed her off wholesale mare schmuck new spew

So… sell a beer trucker doodoo

Foes go to hell in a seersucker muumuu

DOOM!

Guilty!

Dilla, Dilla!

Grind for the paper, hot like Sanka

Top notch ranker, clock my banker

Dead Presidents, sick dudes — I’m the medicine

Storming in your residence when I’m in my element

No contest, I get hot and go unconscious — ya boy is automatic

Now go play in traffic, the flow is graphic

With no theatrics, still rock sold out shows for practice

Call it a walk-through.

Def.

The wrong one to talk to

Beef ain’t nothin I can’t stick a fork through

We break bread, eat good, and pour brew

Cheers!

Come toast to the one with respect to the utmost on more than one coast

GS, check the style I splash, to make the listener wanna pile my cash

King of the Hill, money is the issue

It’s all on me tell 'em bring me the bill

Daddy Warbucks, shift gears in the armored truck

Like Big Daddy Kane when I warm it up

Fans scream for the two man team

Doom and Guilty — Hip Hop supreme

The denim is blue but the pockets green

Big knots in jeans, you can’t stop the kings