Rhinestone Cowboy

[Produced by Madlib] [MF DOOM] Hold the cold one like he hold a old gun Like he hold the microphone and stole the show for fun Or a foe for ransom, flows is handsome O's in tandem, anthem, random, tantrum Phantom of the Grand Ole Opry ask the dumb hottie Masked pump shotty, somebody stop me Hardly come sloppy on a retarded hard copy After rockin' parties he departed in a jalopy Watch the droptop papi Known as the grimey, limey, slimy, try me, blimey Simply smashing in a fashion that's timely Madvillain dashing in a beat-rhyme crime spree We rock the house like rock 'n roll Got more soul than a sock with a hole Set the stage with a goal To have the game locked in a cage getting shocked with a pole Overthrow 'em like throwing rover a biscuit A lot of bitches think he's overly chauvinistic Let go his dick if that's the case Rats, what a waste there's more cats to chase Dogs, he got it like new powers Woke up, wrote and spit the shit in a few hours Sheesh! Been unleashed since the glee club Had your fam saying, "Please make me a dub" Well, since you ask kindly Where he been behind the mask, who can't find me? You're blind In the wine zone leave ya mind blown When he shine with the 9, he's a rhinestone... cowboy [MF DOOM] No no no no enough [Verse 2 - MF DOOM] Goony goo goo loony cuckoo like Gary Gnu off New Zoo Revue But who knew the mask had a loose screw? Hell, could hardly tell Had to tighten it up like the Drells and Archie Bell It speaks well of the hyper base Wasn't even tweaked and it leaked into cyberspace Couldn't wait for the snipes to place At least a track list in bold print typeface Stopped for a year Come back with thumb tacks, pop full of beer We're hip hop sharecroppers Used to wear flip flops, now rare gear coppers He's in this for the quiche You might as well not ask him for no free shit, capiche? Oh, my aching hands From raking in grands and breaking in mic stands Villain—his smile stuns ya chick While he put himself in your shoes run ya kicks You heard it on the radio, tape it Play it in your stereo, your crew'll go apeshit Raw lyrics—he smells 'em like a hunch The same intuition that tells him "spike the punch" Curses, we's truly the worsest With enough rhymes to spread throughout the boundless universes Let the beat blast, she told him wear the mask He said you bet your sweet ass It's made of fine chrome alloy Find him on the grind, he's the rhinestone cowboy