Horehound + Sesame Seeds = Tonight’s Show

MF DOOM & MF Grimm ft. Bashton the Invizabul Mang and Lord Smog - “Horehound + Sesame Seeds = Tonight’s Show”
[Emcee(s): MF Grimm, Bashton the Invizabul Mang, and Lord Smog (AKA Lord Scotch 79 / KEO X-Men)]
[Producer(s): MF DOOM (Original Instrumental from Metal Fingers - “Horehound”)]
[Sample 1 (Melody): Season 1 Episode 2 of Spider-Man (1981) - “Dr. Doom, Master of the World” (16:56)]
[Sample 2 (Drums): Stetsasonic - “Go Stetsa I” (0:00)]

[Hook: MF Grimm]
Ready to perform, and your flow is tight
There’ll be no show tonight
Guns are busting, now bullets take flight
There’ll be no show tonight
Fans pissed, saying you ain’t right
There’ll be no show tonight
In the club, a riot we incite
There’ll be no show tonight

[Verse 1: MF Grimm]
We’re gonna
Wet your whole show up, throw a grenade on
Stage, watch it blow up, body parts scatter
Females throw up, whole shit
Tore up. Paid mercenaries
Fuck the whole club up, gonna have niggas
Running out, leaving women behind
Losing they mind, audience terrified, a few people
Died. Motherfucker, can’t hide
Fuck who you are. So what you a star?
It’s about memories and scars. Wolves
Are raised to be strapped all the time
But it pays to be. Nigga, fuck peace. I’m
Blazing, see? The walking dead ain’t
Fazing me. Dry your ass out like
A raisin, see? Air your ass out like
Handwashed jeans. MF pure dope, un-
-cut, kill fiends, can’t cope, stressed out, murder
Whole team, evaporate green, inhale
Steam

[Hook: MF Grimm]
Ready to perform, and your flow is tight
There’ll be no show tonight
Guns are busting, now bullets take flight
There’ll be no show tonight
Fans pissed, saying you ain’t right
There’ll be no show tonight
In the club, a riot we incite
There’ll be no show tonight

[Verse 2: Bashton the Invizabul Mang]
Hey you, get the fuck off
You wanna stay, so lost and head tossed while I rock
Crowds and get money like motherfucking stars
Sang like Lou Rawls and spit on y’all
Plus, we could get raw and get down
With a Decepticon type of brawl. I’m vio-
-lating turds who are native tongue, busting shots
Then you fall. You can pay Peter, Mary
And Paul. My heat will still turn
Your brain cabbage to fucking coleslaw
Nat King Cole is here to ball
Here to Grinch your shit and all your Santy Claus
I’ll bust your mouth ‘til you need Anbesol
Yes, yes, y’all, you can’t rock the presen-
-tation. You an imitation
Of another illustration, illustrating
You wack toys perpetrating. I took the
Case when Percy Mason told me
Y’all was, for certain, motherfucking faking
You dead and stinking from your intake
Of bacon, so when I get on stage, yo, what’s
Shaking? What’s shaking?

[Hook: MF Grimm]
Ready to perform, and your flow is tight
There’ll be no show tonight
Guns are busting, now bullets take flight
There’ll be no show tonight
Fans pissed, saying you ain’t right
There’ll be no show tonight
In the club, a riot we incite
There’ll be no show tonight

[Verse 3: Lord Smog (AKA Lord Scotch 79 / KEO X-Men)]
I find these various emcees hilarious
The only time they rhyme behind police barriers
I guess that’s industry rhyming
Probably find Scotch out in the street, rhyming
Indiscreet timing, M.I.C. lifer
No parole and won’t be deciphered
Beat-biter, party contaminant
Wilding in your venue without no laminate
Is that your drink? I think I spit a clam in it
Backstage platter better not have no ham in it
Motherfucker (Point Blank!)