Lyrics:

[Intro: MF DOOM & (Mr. Fantastik)]
(Yo!) Yo!
(MF DOOM) Mr. Fantastik
(Mr. Fantastik) Villain
(What up, nigga?) Ain't nuttin; what's the word?
(What's cracking, boy?) Same ol' shit, kid...
(Man) ...different day, you know?
(These rap snitches, man...
Shit is bugged out, man. What the fuck, man?)
Shit, you telling me. (Niggas running their mouth
Telling e'rything, e'rything)

[Hook 2X: Mr. Fantastik ]
Rap snitches, telling all their business
Sit in the court and be their own star witness
Do you see the perpetrator? - Yeah, I'm right here
Fuck around, get the whole label sent up for years

[Verse 1: Mr. Fantastik]
Type profile low, like A in Paid in Full
Attract heavy cash 'cause the game's centrifugal
Mister Fantastik, long dough like elastic
Guard my life with twin Glocks that's made out of plastic
Can't stand a brown nosing nigga fake ass bastard
Admiring my style, tour bus through Manhattan
Plotting, plan the quickest, my flow's the sickest
My hoes be the thickest, my dro the stickiest
Street nigga, stamped and bonafide
When beef jump niggas come get me 'cause they know I ride
True to the ski mask, New York's my origin
Play a fake gangsta like a old accordion
According to him, when the D's rushed in
Complication from the wire testimony was thin
Caused his man to go up north, the ball hit 'em again
Lame rap snitch nigga even told on the Mexican

[Hook 2X: Mr. Fantastik]
Rap snitches, telling all their business
Sit in the court and be their own star witness
Do you see the perpetrator? - Yeah, I'm right here
Fuck around, get the whole label sent up for years

[Verse 2: MF DOOM]
True, there's rules to this shit, fools dare care
Everybody wanna rule the world with tears for fear
Yeah, yeah, tell 'em tell it on the mountain hill
Running up they mouth bill, everybody doubting still
Informer, keep it up and get tested
Pop through your bubble vest or double-breasted
He keep a lab down south in the little beast
So much heat you woulda thought it was the Middle East
A little grease always keeps the wheels a spinning
Like sitting on twenty threes to get the squealers grinning
Hitting on many trees, feel real linen
Spitting on enemies, get the steel for tin men
Where no brains but gum flap
He said his gun clap, then he fled after one slap (Pap!)
Son, shut your trap, save it for the bitches
Mmm, delicious, rapp snitch knishes

[Outro: Mr. Fantastik & (MF DOOM)]
You know what I'm saying?
(It's terrible)
Crazy, man, I'm just analyzing this whole game
This is bugged out, man, niggas is snitching
Telling on they own self
(It's a horror, yo)
Fuck around and get everybody bagged, man
(Atrocities)
Fuck around and get yo mama bagged, nigga
You know your grandmama used to be bootlegging...
Fake hustling nigga

Perpetrator? Yeah, I'm right here...