Artist: DOOMSTARKS (MF DOOM & Ghostface Killah)
Album:  Victory Laps (S)
Song:   Victory Laps
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

[MF DOOM] + (Ghost)
{*clearing throat*} AH-HEM~!
Bust off your straps, shot the victory laps
For a rhyme-o-cidal maniac, rap run runners
Kingpin numbers to kick, kneeslap skat
Draw no lose, Villain on the track in your town
like Ringling Brothers, bring rings around clowns
Got 'em bowin down in surround-o-sound, drown (WORD!)
Pawn somethin for a small fortune
Goon broke, sell a portion to a auction, caution
Name your price, it's that times four score of course
No love lost, enter the town on tour de force cost more
Give or take the off day short stay
In case the courty shorty need the horseplay
Raw hay, rakin in the dough, no connection
Came home lames bit it, still prayin protection
Villain no kiddin when he ain't rhyme checkin
Or in the sunshine with a fime dime neckin
He lightin up the older big torch with sparks glowin
Get caught squash mode, pass it off as Starks go

[Ghostface Killah]
Bringin it home it's the relay laps; twist cats put 'em on they ass
The other half on they neck and they back
Prepare your vest for the victory laps
Take titles and give 'em back, World Series Hummers
Veteran numbers, still spit that crack
Bottles of Goose in the backpack
Niggaz talkin like "Dare Tony Starks, don't you dare let us down
Your hits be immaculate, and accurate"
Like the targets of Jake Plummer (word~!)
Started all that talk of bein a gunner
Beef in the winter leads to death in the summer
Switchin the Franks, army tanks
Fuck a bodyguard, it's me in the iron
I'm secure like federal banks, pirates
Y'all niggaz better walk the plank - motherfucker!

[MF DOOM]
BLUKA BLUKA compliments of the gentlemen in all black
In the back softball stack off the wall plaque
For all slack, track who diss is tricky
Hope to fix the problem with the rack & pinion doohickey
Not too quickly, they softer than a gooch
As I proceed to pop the clutch like a cooch brooch
It broke loose, scratched the side slidin
Disappearin off of the horizon, glidin
You're now ridin with the rude gin and ginseng drinkin
Sing a Sting song smooth as mink skin
Drop a jewel to keep the king's men thinkin
Filthy Metal Fingers leave the ink pen stinkin
Move~! The lab is in a mess
Wreakin speakin from the heart like a stabbin in the chest
Leakin in a cab in distress, blinkin, home
Poems ringin in his dome, clingin to chrome, it's ons