Live Lyrics - First Come First Served - Dr. Dooom

South Bronx, New York 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

I heard your CD is wack, wasn't fucking impressed 

Who's the nigga with the big mouth? 

I live [Incomprehensible] and bit off with a lion's mouth 

Your hype man 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. Dooom 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 their ass off 

Niggas be mean mugging wide eyed smoking that dust 

I'm a send Tony Lou with a bazooka 

Blow smoke in a 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, what 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 

Y'all gon' see my face, fuck a mask 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

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 sick rat coleslaw around your toilet stool 

While you scream ''fuck you'' 

I'm across 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 kaboom 

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 

Or your credit card to a retarded kid in a wheel-chair 

Coming up the street walking by 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? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live? 

Is it live, live, live, live, live?