Born in London, Dumile moved with his family to Long Island, New York at a young age. He began his musical career in 1988 as a member of the East Coast hip-hop trio KMD, at which time he performed under the name Zev Love X. KMD disbanded in 1993 following the death of Dumile's brother, DJ Subroc. After taking a hiatus from the music scene, Dumile reemerged in 1998, when he began performing at open mic events while wearing a mask. He adopted the MF DOOM persona and rarely made unmasked public appearances from that time onward. His metal mask resembles that of Marvel Comics supervillain Doctor Doom, who is depicted rapping on the cover of his 1999 debut solo album Operation: Doomsday. In the early 2000s, Dumile also released solo albums under the pseudonyms King Geedorah and Viktor Vaughn.
MF DOOM appeared in several collaborative projects such as Madvillain (with Madlib), DANGERDOOM (with Danger Mouse), DOOMSTARKS (with Ghostface Killah), JJ DOOM (with Jneiro Jarel), NEHRUVIANDOOM (with Bishop Nehru), and Czarface Meets Metal Face (with CZARFACE).
Dumile was born on 9 January 1971 in London, England, the son of a Trinidadian mother and a Zimbabwean father. His family moved to Long Island, New York, when he was a child; Dumile remained a British citizen. Dumile grew up in Freeport, New York, and first started DJ'ing during the summer after third grade. Dumile had lived in London since 2009. Dumile was a follower of the Nuwaubian Nation.
Dumile created the MF DOOM character as an alter ego with a backstory he could reference in his music. The character combines elements from the Marvel Comics supervillain Doctor Doom, Destro, and the Phantom of the Opera; like Doctor Doom and Phantom, Dumile referred to himself in the third person while in character. His signature mask was similar to that of Doctor Doom, who is depicted rapping on the cover of Dumile's 1999 debut album Operation: Doomsday.
Dumile wore the mask while performing, and would not be photographed without it, except for short glimpses in videos and in earlier photos with KMD. Later versions of the mask were based on a prop from the 2000 film Gladiator. Academic Hershini Bhana Young argued that, by appropriating the Doctor Doom mask, Dumile "positions himself as enemy, not only of the music industry but also of dominant constructions of identity that relegate him as a black man to second-class citizenship".
Dumile's rap persona MF DOOM was known for his unique free-association rap style, challenging the conventional style of rhyming and flow. His interest in cartoons, comics and other pop culture realms as well as his distinct sampling/production inspired many contemporary artists today.
On December 31, 2020 it was announced on Dumile's Instagram and Facebook by his wife Jasmine, that the rapper had passed away on October 31 of that year at the age of 49.
After his death, Variety described him as one of the scene's "most celebrated, unpredictable and enigmatic figures". Dumile is considered one of the most celebrated and influential musicians in hip-hop. The English musician Thom Yorke, who collaborated with Dumile on two occasions, wrote: "He was a massive inspiration to so many of us, changed things... For me the way he put words was often shocking in its genius, using stream of consciousness in a way I'd never heard before." Stereogum, reviewing Operation: Doomsday on its 20th anniversary, noted Dumile's "formative" influence on younger rappers. El-P of Run the Jewels described him as a "writer's writer", while Q-Tip called him "your favorite rapper's favorite rapper".
The Finest feat. Tommy Gunn
MF Doom Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
And you learn to hold on (hold on)
To things like the mic the mic
And you learn to appreciate who is the nicest on said device
But who is (The finest)
Time at shashuma, too much drama, blind behind the rumor
Time and time and time, my mind, I'm trying to find a tumor
As soon as one of ya' men's dead in Hempstead, you trying to find Pumas
Sooner the better, even knitted a sweater already
Keep your leather, we coming through the brutal weather
We ready to do whatever, yo' Doom you with it?
(You know it like a poet, my brother)
(Hey, Gunn you wit it?) Whatever
I know about going paid to broke, to next day well-off
To bust a shell off, to dick-riders: "Get the hell off"
Made a call to a client, he must've had his cell off
A show-off, he has the same bite but fell off
I tell off the bat, from science to pure facts
Which niggas is wack 'til they last two tracks
Matter fact, y'all could wait for the rep to tell
The tall-tale, how he escape from out the depths of hell
When die, he gon' die like a soldier die
Holding a swollen eye, drinking Olde Gold
Smoking a stog, watching po-po patrol the beach
Blowing my high, rolling by, when Gunn die
He gon' try to preach the streets then go to the sky
Yup! That hold water, like drizzle in a paper cup
This one etched in stone, the chisel with the paper up
I need a cut: a taper-up, edge-up
Niggas can't measure up, I'm here to get the treasure up
Stands up and hold 'em high, do or die
He got heat, no surprise, stop the beat, close your eyes
Got the weed, rolling lah
Not sweet, so no demise, all the guys drops seeds so multiply
Within the prophecies hold the lie
He bled my mother and my father, but can't bleed me
OD, ghetto misery, he bled my brother, my sister, but can't bleed me
A OG, ghetto misery, bled my mother, my father, but can't bleed
Me sci-fly, whole style stuck up
Used to talk to myself, I told him, "Shut the fuck up!"
Buckle up, cause it's about to be rough
He said, "Keep talking that shit, you 'bout to be snuffed"
Then we squashed it, I let em know: "Watch it
We only met a time to join these rhymers in the mosh pit"
Gosh, it feels great just to increase the chance
For a pussy nigga face to hit the dance floor
I pull ya' top up, got clout, crack rock, what?
Now it's all good business, and so this bitch is locked up
On the dance floor: you got knocked out, your bitch got knocked up
Baby-face, and hey can you brand you, brand new machete
Damn, I just shook your hand and can't stand you already
Can't stand you, understand you deadly
But my hammer's like a band, my man, it's Brand New and Heavy
Yo' Doom, you ready?
(Yeah! Yo' Gunn, you with it?) Whatever
Come on stay, I wrote this rhyme on my born-day
Remind me of the same style I flipped on "Hey!"
Yikes! Who can fuck with the likes
Of one such who scores touchdown and spikes mic's
Metal grill, with many styles, better still
Feel like number 26 on a roulette wheel
And deal, and run rings around rhymers
And run rings like number runners whose old-timers
Shorty in the all black, she think she all that
I called her, she said, "Don't call back!"
She called me, now what you call that?
Let's go back, I sold crack
Hold gats, smoke that, drink that, toke that
Fuck! Where that ho at? Where that dough at?
Suffering succotash! This hooker broke into his last buck of cash
He love her, motherfuck her ass
Metal feet dented your car fender
My agenda up in the basement party tipping the bartender
Is unbeknownst to you who could get body blown?
MF like Mike Fran Corleone
And got it sown, maricon, like to know what you staring at?
An invisible cat, who pull off a disappearing act
Raised by a pack a wild womens like Sweetback
Front? I'mma be back! (Like brothers in the street act)
(Surrounded by a bunch a bad bitches like Sweetback)
(Fuck with me I'll be back)
Like niggas in the streets act (streets act!)
The Finest by MF DOOM is a song about life, struggles, and perseverance. The opening lines of the song deal with the passage of time and how we learn to hold on to the things that have meaning in our lives, like the mic. The song goes on to discuss the challenges and drama that come with life, such as trying to find a tumor in someone's mind, dealing with rumors, and trying to find shoes for a friend who has just died. Through it all, the song portrays a sense of determination and the desire to overcome adversity.
The lyrics of the song are full of references to various aspects of life. Some of the lines are about the struggles of living in the ghetto, such as being bled dry by gangs and having to resort to selling drugs to make ends meet. Other lines are about the importance of friendship and brotherhood in keeping us grounded and giving us strength. The song also references various cultural icons, such as Mike Fran Corleone from The Godfather and Sweetback from the blaxploitation movie of the same name.
Overall, The Finest is a powerful and introspective song that addresses many of the challenges and struggles of life. The song's lyrics are full of poignant and thought-provoking lines that encourage listeners to think deeply about their own experiences and the world around them.
Line by Line Meaning
As the life cycle goes on goes on
As life continues to progress
And you learn to hold on (hold on)
And you learn the importance of perseverance
To things like the mic the mic
To things like expressing oneself through music
And you learn to appreciate who is the nicest on said device
And you learn to recognize and value the most talented artists
But who is (The finest)
But who is truly the best
Time at shashuma, too much drama, blind behind the rumor
In times of chaos and gossip, it's easy to lose sight of the truth
Time and time and time, my mind, I'm trying to find a tumor
Repeatedly searching for clarity and understanding in my thoughts
Time at shashuma, no time for humor
In the midst of turmoil, there is no room for laughter
As soon as one of ya' men's dead in Hempstead, you trying to find Pumas
As soon as someone you know dies, you seek comfort or distraction
Sooner the better, even knitted a sweater already
It's preferable to act promptly or prepare in advance
Keep your leather, we coming through the brutal weather
We're braving difficult circumstances, unaffected by material possessions
We ready to do whatever, yo' Doom you with it?
Are you prepared to face any challenge, MF DOOM?
(You know it like a poet, my brother)
(You understand it deeply, like a poet, my brother)
(Hey, Gunn you wit it?) Whatever
(Hey, Gunn, are you on board?) Whatever the case may be
I know about going paid to broke, to next day well-off
I understand the fluctuation from wealth to poverty and back
To bust a shell off, to dick-riders: "Get the hell off"
To defend oneself and dismiss those who blindly follow
Made a call to a client, he must've had his cell off
Tried to contact someone, but they were unresponsive
A show-off, he has the same bite but fell off
He used to have talent, but has since lost his edge
I tell off the bat, from science to pure facts
I'm straightforward and knowledgeable in various disciplines
Which niggas is wack 'til they last two tracks
Identifying artists who lack skill based on their recent songs
Matter fact, y'all could wait for the rep to tell
In fact, you can rely on others to inform you
The tall-tale, how he escape from out the depths of hell
The exaggerated story of his triumph over adversity
When die, he gon' die like a soldier die
When he dies, he will die with bravery and honor
Holding a swollen eye, drinking Olde Gold
Bearing the scars of battle, finding solace in cheap alcohol
Smoking a stog, watching po-po patrol the beach
Smoking a cigar, observing police monitoring the streets
Blowing my high, rolling by, when Gunn die
Ruining my mood, passing by in a car, when Gunn dies
He gon' try to preach the streets then go to the sky
He will attempt to impart wisdom from the streets before passing away
Yup! That hold water, like drizzle in a paper cup
That has credibility, but is ultimately insignificant
This one etched in stone, the chisel with the paper up
This one is permanent and carved into history
I need a cut: a taper-up, edge-up
I need a haircut to freshen up my appearance
Niggas can't measure up, I'm here to get the treasure up
Others can't match my skills, I'm here to acquire wealth
Stands up and hold 'em high, do or die
Stand tall and proudly, ready to face any challenge
He got heat, no surprises, stop the beat, close your eyes
He has talent, nothing unexpected, pause the music, pay attention
Got the weed, rolling lah
I have marijuana, rolling it into a joint
Not sweet, so no demise, all the guys drops seeds so multiply
Not weak or easily defeated, everyone is reproducing
Within the prophecies hold the lie
Hidden among the predictions is a falsehood
He bled my mother and my father, but can't bleed me
He caused my parents pain, but cannot hurt me
OD, ghetto misery, he bled my brother, my sister, but can't bleed me
Causing suffering and despair, he harmed my siblings but not me
A OG, ghetto misery, bled my mother, my father, but can't bleed
An original gangster, spreading despair, hurt my parents but not me
Me sci-fly, whole style stuck up
I'm highly skilled and have an arrogant demeanor
Used to talk to myself, I told him, "Shut the fuck up!"
I used to have conversations with my inner self, but silenced it
Buckle up, cause it's about to be rough
Prepare yourself, as things are about to get difficult
He said, "Keep talking that shit, you 'bout to be snuffed"
He warned that continuing to speak that way will lead to consequences
Then we squashed it, I let em know: "Watch it
We resolved the issue, but I warned him to be cautious
We only met a time to join these rhymers in the mosh pit"
We only unite briefly to participate in lively music performances
Gosh, it feels great just to increase the chance
Wow, it's satisfying to raise the odds of success
For a pussy nigga face to hit the dance floor
For a cowardly person to face consequences in a confrontation
I pull ya' top up, got clout, crack rock, what?
I reveal your vulnerability, while I have influence and drugs
Now it's all good business, and so this bitch is locked up
Now it's all about making money, and this woman is imprisoned
On the dance floor: you got knocked out, your bitch got knocked up
You were physically assaulted, and your girlfriend is pregnant
Baby-face, and hey can you brand you, brand new machete
Youthful appearance, and hey, can you handle a new weapon
Damn, I just shook your hand and can't stand you already
Wow, I just met you and already dislike you
Can't stand you, understand you deadly
Can't tolerate you, but can predict your dangerousness
But my hammer's like a band, my man, it's Brand New and Heavy
But my weapon is powerful, my friend, it's Brand New and Heavy
Yo' Doom, you ready?
Hey, MF DOOM, are you prepared?
(Yeah! Yo' Gunn, you with it?) Whatever
(Yeah! Hey, Gunn, are you on board?) Whatever the case may be
Come on stay, I wrote this rhyme on my born-day
Come and listen, I wrote this verse on the day of my birth
Remind me of the same style I flipped on "Hey!"
It reminds me of the similar style I used on the song "Hey!"
Yikes! Who can fuck with the likes
Wow! Who can compete with someone as talented as me
Of one such who scores touchdown and spikes mic's
Who achieves success and celebrates with flair
Metal grill, with many styles, better still
Distinctive appearance and versatile skills, even superior
Feel like number 26 on a roulette wheel
Feel like an unpredictable element, like the number 26 on a roulette wheel
And deal, and run rings around rhymers
And handle situations effortlessly, outperforming other rappers
And run rings like number runners whose old-timers
And easily outsmart others, like experienced illegal gambling operators
Shorty in the all black, she think she all that
A woman dressed entirely in black, thinking highly of herself
I called her, she said, "Don't call back!"
I reached out to her, but she rejected any further contact
She called me, now what you call that?
She initiated contact, now how do you interpret that?
Let's go back, I sold crack
Let's return to the past, when I used to sell drugs
Hold gats, smoke that, drink that, toke that
Carry weapons, smoke drugs, drink alcohol, consume cannabis
Fuck! Where that ho at? Where that dough at?
Damn! Where is that woman? Where is the money?
Suffering succotash! This hooker broke into his last buck of cash
Expressing surprise and frustration, this prostitute stole his last bit of money
He love her, motherfuck her ass
He loves her, but also wants to harm her
Metal feet dented your car fender
My robotic feet damaged your car's bumper
My agenda up in the basement party tipping the bartender
My secret plan is to influence the party by tipping the bartender
Is unbeknownst to you who could get body blown?
You have no idea who might face severe consequences
MF like Mike Fran Corleone
MF, just like Michael Francis Corleone
And got it sown, maricon, like to know what you staring at?
And have it under control, fool, would you like to know why you're looking at me?
An invisible cat, who pull off a disappearing act
An unnoticed figure, capable of disappearing without a trace
Raised by a pack a wild womens like Sweetback
Brought up by a group of independent women, similar to the character Sweetback
Front? I'mma be back! (Like brothers in the street act)
Challenge me? I'll return with force! (Like how brothers act in the streets)
(Surrounded by a bunch a bad bitches like Sweetback)
(Surrounded by attractive women, similar to Sweetback)
(Fuck with me I'll be back)
(If you mess with me, I'll retaliate)
Like niggas in the streets act (streets act!)
Similar to how people behave in the streets (streets behave!)
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: Daniel Dumile Thompson, Tommy Gunn
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind