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No Names

This song is by Danger Doom, features Money Mark and appears on the album The Mouse and the Mask (2005).

Original video
Well, Debbie thinks this is all about her biological clock and I
She stopped screaming long enough to tell you that?
Huh? No no no no, no, the other Debbie
Debbie the teacher?

Oh, you mean... Black Debbie
Whoa whoa whoa whoa, why is she "Black" Debbie?
No, not in a bad way
It's just to tell them apart because she's black

True, Doom rolled on through with a whole crew
That stole on you for holding old brew, who told you?
Even if it's crap, mind your own business
They raps ain't got no gift like a lonely Christmas

Real phony with beats that's hardly fresh
How they manage to deal is anybody's guess
Yours is as good as mine, she's sure fine
From the hood where you squeeze your nine off the free cheese line

All you saw was a do a bee's line
to where she stood and sipped the Nehi Grape, the sweet kind
Circle you, thicker by design
Behind swingin like bring it back, come rewind

Uhh, excuse me boo
She stuck out her tongue, it was purple number two
FDA approved played it smoother than a doo rag
What a brother gotta do to get a taste a some of you?

Bagged, and he don't mean coach
Then she saw the mask, acted like she seen a roach
The mirror shine reflect colors like your CD's
Show love to others, we all brothers like the Bee Gees

All except the broads and you
Hold your applause, they break God's laws and who pays?
The taxpayer that's who
Catch a rapper by his toe and smack off his tattoos

That's gonna leave a bruise
Leave 'em grievin' blues like believin' in evening news
They must be eatin' glue
Heave it all back, and we even Steven Sue
Sprinkle lyrics like seasoning beef stew
And sneezin' all in it after breathin' in the flu

Get a clue, his reasoning is askew
As to all the feverin and heavin up goo
Either that or... dude
Leave your girl around this man whore and she's too screwed
Just in case she's in a "what you wanna do" mood
Bring your plate to the Metal Face and get your food chewed

Tastes like chicken
He wastes no time like the bass line kickin' in
Or like a lace eye with you through thick and thin
Raw humor, face pie to a frickin' chin
New York'n, a hell of a finer town
Choose your words wisely from the Boogie Down to Chinatown

Or be found with a hole in your designer gown
In the role of public opinion it earned a minor frown
If you think you're slick, you might could wish, but uhh
As a few good men set sights to link with your chick
You have to find a new hen fight to drink your liq
Ten years later, see how Enzyte'll shrink your

Wallet, as you wallow in a sorrow pit
Cheers, is that your beer kid? Then swallow it
or get chased by the Sandman, on some Apollo
Flow so weird, his own peers couldn't follow it
On the phone, he sounded like a real pain
Then we met in person, he was three shades blacker
That's why he saved money over ball and chain dames
We all the same, no callin' names

I'm as smart as him.
What? I got Ph.D's in four scientific disciplines.
Really?
Why do you think they call me Dr. Quinn?
Um, I just thought that was a nickname
You know, like Dr. Dre
East-side

Written by:

Brian Burton / Daniel Dumile

External links