Cookin Soul
Smoke a lil Xmas Tree
[Intro: Sample]
I’d give anything to see
Our little Christmas tree
And to–

[Verse: MF Doom]
From the top of the key, from three villain
Been on in the game as long as he can wheelie a Schwinn
Turn the corner, spinning, bust that ass and get up
Dust off the mask, club a laugh, give him a head up
He got jumped, and pumped his adrenaline
He said it made him tougher than a bump of raw medicine
To write all night long, the hourglass is still slow
Float from help on to free power like (?)
And still owe bills, paid dues forever
Slave views, to when it comes to who's more "clever-er"
Used to wear a leather goose (?) with the fur collar
Hand charge the people loose leaf worse for dollar
Ya heard “Holla!”, broad or dude, we need food
Eat your teams for sure the streets all seem rude
For fam' like the Partridges, pardon him for the mix up
Battle for your Atari cartridges
Doom, drum, that bong
There goes that news van again, act like you knew like Toucan Sam on ‘em
Eat rappers like part of a complete breakfast
Their rhymes ain’t worth the weight of their cheap necklace
String ‘em up, ring ‘em up, under whack, junk snack
And get that out your hand, pump, jump and get your dump smacked
Foul, we all know the rules bro
You sow, you blow, the super youth fools
[Outro]
To kiss my baby, under the mistletoe
But I keep– I keep– I keep
And to