for MF Doom, Viktor Vaughn, DOOM, King Dumile, and Metal Fingers
God bless the mic I wreak on stages now,
Attractive rhymes get flexed, surround the sound.
My slickest shit shifts tonally. O dreams,
Ease slow in these C notes before I drown.
My god, my braggadocio makes things
Age fast. I make time to waste time on Bling.
Golly, I sprint through years so fast I shatt-
Er in my emergency of rooms. Sing
More sonnets with my names, “the Doom” of rap.
Each word a weight I weigh against a glass.
Get broke or broke in like wild horses slain.
Arrange your distance from my shadowed masks.
I make the bars I put you behind, here.
I tend my own prisons and disappear.