Inspector Willoughby

This next track is Science of Life featuring MF Doom.

And Science of Life is ID4windz, Little Sci, AKA John Robison, and Inspector Willoughby, rest in peace.

I used to work for Science of Life's record label.

But, uh, yeah, this is a great collab called Yikes.

I hear you.

Let's go! And now, the nations of the world, brought to you by Yikes.

It's way too fly like the ecliptic is fun to see Remind me of Hey You Guys, the electric company Big Little Sci, ID, Willoughby And silly me villainy in this ill-built soliloquy Came through to do the do through the tube To the groove and confuse your crew like Rubik's Cube The metal mask face mangled, purple cape Found a way to smash the triangle through the circle shape Faster than a team of apes, microphone bandit Taller than the solar system, nine known planet Enough to leave your mind blown, ain't it? Keep an open mind, don't take things for granted MCs seem to be slushed out They must be still got the wool over their eyes like Mushmouth It's like a gold rush in the South For the truth beyond shadow of a doubt, cut it out Ayo, who tappin'? About to get real ill And still kill two birds with one sub-rock with my pen spill Still cool and chillin', makin' papers Actin' stupid, runnin' capers Actin' like Biz givin' skeets to the papers Now can I remember or was I really deaf Ben When this chick tried to get me for all my shillings and pence? Oh yeah, that makes me think of Sly when he was alive The first cat that took me to the country and before he moved to NY And I was a little guy hangin' around older cats In fat dookie rolls and fly Gucci hats Hangin' around with black shoe models, write my name on the wall My theme through life, flick brick, lick the ball And here I am with Doomalae The silly cycle social single, no more, no less unless I say It's fact when they die, it's wigs out And gets jiggy bling platinum and swigged out My old granddad, who me? Oh yeah, I'm buggin' Sorta like when my daughter's mother told me she had a bun in the oven Ayo, don't even try to mess with me to the exit Messin' around on the mic, I'll leave the rhyme pregnant Whenever we pickin' up mics, it's like Whenever we blowin' up shows, it's like Whenever we takin' control of our destiny Takin' hip-hop to next degree Whenever we pickin' up mics, it's like Whenever we blowin' up shows, it's like Whenever we takin' control of our destiny Takin' hip-hop to next beauty Holy smokes, you don't wanna mess with these MCs Cuz we been rhymin' like ever since we had pigtails For each of us, it's been a ten year span now Even back then, I knew one day we'll lay this jam down Smoother version of Return of the Boom Bap MF to the Science, consider yourself doomed, black Packin' mics like chrome piece Styles stay fat like obese Whether written or off the dome piece Copy, copy, MCs gettin' real sloppy, y'all Won't even waste my time goin' back and forth like volleyball Ridin' tracks like trolley cars The last thing on my mind is sellin' my soul, becomin' a shiny star Can't even consider it A real type cat, I let a brother know if I ain't feelin' it Not even a little bit Half these cats tryin' to pass ignorance for common sense But we give 'em no pity, y'all Science of Life, MF Doom down to the titty ball Now what you say? I said we give 'em no pity, y'all Science to the MF on down to the titty ball

The supersonic X-villain, six million bionic Twist the Smirnoff ice, sippin' the liquid tonic Full of bubonic tag, the manhunt circle dot Now you got it if you my microphonics Do the economics, four winds and golf And stand off burnin' tags with Ken Frost The man's lost without a mic pop or stop a hand off We ran raw over tracks and banned all rappers that's wack Spook the sat and loop the drum track Yo, we live and direct, transmittin' text Yo, the pro prospect BX and Verrest made a verse correct And transmittin' threaten your sound set System profound glisten like the sun solar Joints are soft like Mozart Performin' arts director, moves like the martyr connector Reflect sun rays like the nine ether combined piece Complete mission, medicate, connectin' off the rhythm A wisdom permission, admission, cop the LP, listen Four winds, the all night livin' A broad fight kickin' drum hits into my lung rips Chest expands, thunderous We runnin' red like stoplights all night