All Outta Ale Songtext
von MF DOOM

(One more beer)
(I′ll take you all, all of you)
(Ha-ha-ha-ha) banned from all bars
The man with seven scars

Smack it up, flip it, pulled out, 'bout to fail
Sunday in the ATL and I′m all outta ale
Like a bat out of hell, tripped on a cat tail
Mutt drinkin' out a pail, who let the rat out the cell?

Got all the ingredients and recipe, might as well
Since last week the bootlegger been in jail
If all else fail, inhale the ale
Makin' sure they can′t see your sale via snail mail

Mind like a sewer, servin′ rhyme on a skewer
Doom'll step to a fine dime like he knew her
My black sister, she said, step back before he kissed her
She did the dipper and the smack just missed her


There go a list of politics like Henry Kissinger
99 percent of raps is just a friendly listener
I′m like these dudes must have some screws loose to hate y'all
Or a couple of ounces short of deuce-deuce or eight-ball

Y′all know it's time for the end when the day come
Buy an album, get rudely insulted over fake drums
Same CD′s you get for free, you break 'em
Wa alaikum, make 'em eat they food like steak′um

Why she wanna ask me if I could pass the paprika?
One hand on the mic, the other on the beaker
Every week or so peaked out the lab though, eureka
A technique to keep somethin′ uniquer in your speaker

For yo' information, I didn′t do the beat y'all
It ain′t my fault if she didn't move her feet at all
Skeeter robbed Peter to pay Paul
So he could drink it on Mary so she could play ball

So better have my skrilla
Cut it out with all that funny hand jive, will ya?
All this trouble for a tall glass of Olde E
Drink it all fast, make you haul ass slowly


Remind me to remember what you told me
Holy moly, did you get a load of her roly-poly?
Yo G, remind me to remember what you told me
Whoever don′t feel him, feel balls like a goalie

One for the money, two for the better green
3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine
Told the knock kneed, ghetto queen, get the head fiend
Tell him it's from Medellín and use oxyacetylene

Who needs airplay? It's all just hearsay
Leave a wig like it was havin′ a bad hair day
Miracle glide master, asked him what′s his secret
He said, "Shasta had turned to formaldehyde faster"

When I'm home with my lady, I try to duke her daily
One night she tried to flail me with her ukulele
Pack your heat, the Villain on the cover of Black Beat
With a bunch of crackers and some snack meat

You better have my skrilla
Cut it out with all that funny hand jive, will ya?
All this trouble for a tall glass of Olde E
Drink it all fast and make you haul ass slowly

Remind me to remember what you told me
Holy moly, did you get a load of her roly-poly?
Yo G, remind me to remember what you told me