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Go With The Flow Lyrics - Operation: Doomsday - Mf Doom

"Yeah, here we go... just go with the flow" (repeats 4 times) 

 

Yo, I'd like to check this microphone before I start right quick 

Microphone check 2, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2 

 

[Verse 1] 

Big up all the Monsta Island massive 

And beware before I triple dare you like the last kid 

Who ask me what we don't got that you got son 

For one, flow that's elementary my dear Wat-son 

Secondly, ever since I was little 

Not so much to riddle, least rhyme to the syllable 

Keep tracks that make a Arab thief clap 

With no hands, I chop these drums off 

Truly yours, G Rap 

Actual fact, relax 

In this land of lyrical loss, black 

I'm not the cool sleet stack 

The one who might stop and talk to you 

Poison to few, niggas who be bitin styles I'm like pork to 

Oooh... what you got to lose? Let mud fly 

When I got blues I chew whole crews that's bud dry 

So I ask why the style's from the cess 

Shit be fuckin with my eye as I pull it to the chest 

The super muthafuckin' villain grip the mic wit an iron hand 

Throwin emcees to the fire from out da fryin' pan 

It ain't no use in tryin, man 

Son, stop cryin 

Frontin' like you death-defyin' 

You need to stop lyin' 

Speak your piece only once you're spoken to first 

Now lemme hear your verse while I'm chokin' you 

With bubbly fine rhymes like a editor 

Throw them to my collection of skulls and spines like Predator 

Fuck around, the only niggas who could hear the same sound (who?) 

Was Jet Jaguar and James Brown 

(Yeah, yeah only them two niggas?) 

And I'm glad I took the time to write their names down to big 'em up 

(True, true) 

 

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[Verse 2] 

I'd like to say hi 

It's {?} fly the odd Merlin 

That's quick to whip up a script like Rod Sterling 

{?} bad bitch who used to whip the Sterling 

Who see God?, never see God earlin' 

My man Grimm had his little monkey like Space Ghost 

Me myself I got flavors that out-taste most 

With numb gums, some rhymers is lake toast 

Back to you MF Doom, you late show host 

S to the U to the P E R-uh 

Who chronicle these times in a 3-D horror 

{?} co-star or in a realer drama 

Who break bread with stingy kin-men, indian borrower 

Lone gunmen who candidly flip fly floes 

Single-handedly with one eye closed 

In a fly pose, no shirt {?} 

May see me stack the quarter-mill cash pay 

That's in a smash way how he did it 

Muthafucka probably couldn't peep it past a minute 

 

Photos 

Writer:

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