Two New MF Doom Songs – WESTSIDEDOOM

WESTSIDEDOOM (MF Doom & Shady Records’ Westside Gun) have put out two new records together since the Missing Notebook Rhymes Series came to a full stop (lyrics are below):

WESTSIDEDOOM – “Gorilla Monsoon” Produced By Daringer


Verse 1: Westside Gunn
Ayo, I was in my cell, I clicked my heels 3 times
P Just 2s, my khaki suit mastermind
Water whip, tossed the coke in the alkaline
Platinum and gold, rock English hat to the side
Immaculate rhyme (immaculate rhyme)
It’s so obvious
Watchin’ the world from up top
Snakeskin binoculars
Red companions
Corset is on a suede mansion
My bedroom had a bedroom, my wrist be dancin’ (my wrist be dancin’)
My bedroom had a bedroom, my wrist be dancin’
The flyest that’s livin’, we live and die by the kitchen
Choppin’ on dishes, rack the puff in, ambition
Bitch we had hopped over fences
Banana yellow Fiskers (skrt)
Pushin’ crack like we invented it
Jeff call, Louie Rupert duffle got ten in it (got ten in it)
Call me Jordan, pack we was kickin’ it (we was kickin’ it)
Anti Social Social Club wit’ the snub, yo (boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom)
Gave the Tec a lil’ love bro (drrrrr)
Grand wizard, Patek band, lizard, hand-kissin’
Miami Beach, geigers on Biscayne (Biscayne)
My shooter seen his PO in days
Thank god for my wrist game (wrist game)
Countin’ money in the bubble bath
Whip the half and got another half (whip)
Rockin’ Vetements, backhand you with the 40
Ask Lord, your head’ll spin, a cold war Leatherman
You will never be better than Sean P
(Du du du du du du du du du du du du du du du du du)
Pulled up, red GL on devilish (skrt)
Word to the goggles on my Hebru Brantley
Red Supreme Louie gloves, eatin’ scampi (ah)
Supreme Louie box logo wit’ the .44 (boom boom boom)
The way we sellin squares you’d swear them shits is bogo
(Shits is bogo, shits is bogo)
You’d swear them shits was fucking bogo

Verse 2: DOOM
Jumping to a conclusion, could stunt your evolution
Like the trees, dumped into some dust, blunt fusion
Old cocktail of mine, chemicals derail time
It’s all good, as long’s he ain’t inhaling swine
Dare decline, scared money makes none
Take one, you should’ve flushed before the jakes come
Oh shart, specialty is flow art
Smart, but go in circles like a go-kart
Yeah, don’t start, make ’em have to finish
Just bounce like gold-diggers
Once the dough diminish
Phony, it gets lonely at the finish (yup)
You see some deal dope, others steal hope
What’s revealed is of a certain feel – grope
Yellow moist mushie, banana peeled coke
At worst, could not be confused with real soap
Nope, you see disaster is intended
In the face of truth, don’t ever be offended
Overstand the past to get a grasp of the present (psst)
I make it faster than you spends it
End it

WESTSIDEDOOM – “2Stings” Produced By The Alchemist


[Produced by The Alchemist]

Verse 1: DOOM
Keep your mind on your mask, kid
Holler for my classics, it’s drastic
Villain the hydrochloric acid, splashed it
Pull the Nine, reached then he blasted, POW
Ten stripes on a basket
New York style wild
Cheddar grab easy
It’s only entertainment though, when thought out completely
Sad demeanor, could get him the drop and bag cleaner
Master schemer
Expert in that arena
Puffin’ Pasadena
You read the grass was greener
Black beamer
I ate, she gyrate
Rubbing shoulders of pigs who don’t fly straight
Just ate, causing indigestion
Will soon regurgitate, into profits, no question
Nosy agent sniffing around, pay attention
You can take that to the bank
“Thanks”, don’t mention
Pleasure’s all mine, ain’t mad at y’all
Clear advantage like playing paddle ball on adderall
Be brief, that is all
Aight, one more rhyme
Self-snitching rappers who’s lines is pure pork rinds

Verse 2: Westside Gunn
It’s after midnight, rocking Midnight Studios
Fuck her raw, got my wrist right
Brick white Patek bag put the reggie one ice, nice
Price on your baby mama head, no lice, Christ
Chuck T on the Gucci knit
Out the Carrera shooting two Uzi’s on some movie shit
Who he hit?
Word to doggy
You’d rather have butterflies and homes locked up
A nigga bagged the whole Ramadan
He fucked with the mosque up
Thirty days, Worthy praise
With the sleep-late, got a early grave on me
Met my plug twice, but I get them shits every time
Met Gala, I rock a heavy shine
Mind’s gone collecting Hebrews
He only copped gear
I’m in my cell eating seafood
Big logo on the Hermes, this is
Pistol whipped the nigga, left his whole head twisted
Bitch, this the finest grape, life is great
If they kick down the door, hit the fire escape, wait
You done heard dope before
But this that new batch
With one time I’m getting four more
Copped me a new MAC

The editor and content writer for HNHH (UK). Real world views, alter-ego theories.

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