Gazzillion Ear - MF DOOM, Thom Yorke

Villain man never ran with krills in his hand and

Won’t stop rockin' til he clocked in a gazillion grand

Tillin' the wasteland sands

Raps on backs of treasure maps, stacks to the ceilin' fan

He rest when he’s ashes

Ask 'em after ten miles in his galoshes, smashes stashes

Chip on his shoulder with a slip on holster

A clip, a folder and his grip on a boulder bolster

They supposed to know, it show when his aura glow

Get from out the row, when he get dough, it’s horrible

Time is money, spend, waste, save, invest the fess

For 10 Ks, he’ll cave a chicken chest S

Yes, y’all, the dub will get ya trickles

The best ballers pitch in and rub together nickels

But tut tut, he 'bout to change the price again

It go up each time he blow up like hydrogen

Villain here, have 'em shrillin' in fear

And won’t stop top illin' 'til he a gazillionaire

Grillin' stare, yeah, ya boy had drama

Got 'em on a mental plane, avoided bad karma

Once sold an inbred skinhead a nigga joke

Plus a brand new chrome smoker with the triggers broke

I thought I told 'em firing pins was separate

He find out later when he tries to go and rep it

Took a Jehovah money for a Arabic Torah

Charged in advance to translate it and ignored it sorta

One monkey don’t stop no slaughter

A junkie wanna cop a quarter ton, run for the border

Know the drill, it ain’t worth the overkill

Flow skill, still, there’s no thrill

Fill a billion 10K bills in his pill’a

Villain, when it gets realer, split the skrilla with

Dilla his is agenda is clear

Endin' this year with dividends to spare, here

It’s not meant for the seein'

Went through the ceilin' after enterin' his center bein'

A new meanin' to sales through the roof

Guaranteed raw and saw his truth was truth, proof

It’s the return of the tramp

Who do a duet jam when Ernest goes to camp

For the right earn, nah mean like Vern

We need some more oil for the machines to burn, learn

Jiminy crickets

He gets lucky like winnin' free tickets off sickly lyrics

One man’s waste is another man’s soap

Son’s fanbase know the brotha man’s dope

A real weirdo with a bugged rare flow

And the way his hair grow was ugly as a scarecrow

He wears a mask so the charge won’t grab

On a rooftop with a large stone slab

Heads up, talk white and thought niggerish

Refuse to walk tight and got his off the vigorish

Black licorice and equally as yucky

How he handled the money was strictly Dan Stuckie

Monkey hustle, man on fire

Later for the date than the Hadron Collider

And cost more, it be seemin' like a style

DOOM leave the competition steamin' like a pile

Smile, ding, sparklin' jewels

In effect like alternate side of the street parkin' rules

Fools, the roach was never dead

Live for a week then dehydrate with a severed head

Instead, it was depicted as flicked in

Split, the wick’s lit