Voices Pt. 1 feat. MF Doom
MF Grimm Lyrics


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Out in the streets
You won’t survive with wack-ass beats
("We can see that") these days and times
Watch how we get ours with rhymes

To my Metal Face bros with
Stomachs of cast iron who been in to win and
Blast to the last siren on the slow-mo
The con artist with the so-so chick
Chased them all like how he
Did to Slobodan Milošević
Anyhoo, how ‘bout them Yankees?
Once I leave off-stage
The party people thanks me’s
If I may speak freely, nasty
Like the freaky-deaky at your
Local sleazy speakeasy
For any fan of the limelight
In the mic stand was left
A lit stick of dynamite
It’s risky business like hand-to
Hand crack sale
With rappers who’s better off on
The cover of Black Tail
Jumping Jehoshaphat, who’s that? Who cats
Who do magic be like
"Tell me how you do’s that"
Heck no especially those who cop pleas like
Gekko let go the mic, do techno haha
The best’ll bust out laughing at the vet
For no reason
You get cussed out like Tourette
Yet tight flow to make her bad ass stutter
Or even crack a smile from a mad fast cutter
But, uh, horror play since third grade age
Back when we used to play
"Bang! Open bird cage"
Hip hop Benny Hill, sip Henny straight
Get every pennyweight
Then he chill at any rate
My Metal Face hoes with tongue
Or at least eye ring do yourself
I will continue to do my thing like
Kung-Fu fighting, everybody was biting
Then the Supervillain struck again
Like lightning at the same spot
(Hzzz) now what’s the chance of that?
And a name drop like pick a name out the hat
That’s an old driver from the liver conniver
Who vote player out the rap
Game like Survivor while I
Drop degrees like a nerd cat
Wheeling on ten-speeds from way back
I spin your back and then freeze
While I play high ball, low ball to zero
So-called rhymers, go call Cleo while I
Steal the show like, "Thought so try hiking"
Super-duper stars need Ortho Tri-Cyclen
Sometimes the men, mostly from the women
I hear voices saying
"That’s the Supervillain"
(Uhh, I hear voices) mostly from the women
I hear voices supervillain

Blessed Iblis, showing him that, even though




He was not in Heaven
Heaven could still come to him

Overall Meaning

The song "Voices Pt. 1" by MF Grimm feat. MF Doom is a chilling exploration of the singer's psyche as he struggles with homicidal dreams and hallucinations. The lyrics communicate a sense of deep paranoia and disorientation, with the singer feeling like he's being targeted by shadowy conspiracies and sinister spirits. He describes feeling like he's constantly at war with himself, fighting against his own mind and trying to resist the "Grim Reaper" that's always lurking at the edges of his consciousness.


The lyrics are full of vivid and disturbing imagery, with the singer recalling dreams of murder and describing his cellmate as bleeding and "cold as hell." At the same time, there's a sense of hope and resilience that runs through the lyrics, with the singer asserting his identity as "God's son" and representing himself as a wise man or a wise-guy, depending on the interpretation. The use of internal rhyme and repetition creates a haunting rhythm, underscoring the sense of internal conflict and psychological turmoil that the lyrics convey.


Line by Line Meaning

Tossing, turning, dreams of murder, someone's killing me
I have chronic nightmares about being murdered


Of changes, there's nights I'm on a killing spree
Sometimes I find myself in altered states of mind where I fantasize about killing


All done cold blood waking up in cold sweats
I often wake up from these haunting dreams covered in sweat


This is such a cold world unconscious getting death threats
The world is a bleak and unforgiving place and I feel constantly at risk


Shadows choking me, my last breath lets out my body
I feel suffocated by unseen forces that I believe will eventually kill me


It's a conspiracy, my mind and my body's not really down with me
I'm convinced that my own body and mind are conspiring against me


Me against the whole world? It's a little deeper
My inner struggles with myself and the world around me are particularly intense


Me against my self, I fight the Grim Reaper
I'm constantly engaged in a battle with death and my own mortality


Swing sickle, I got my Glock bust rounds off
I feel like I'm in a constant state of war and I'm always armed


Demented, schizophrenic, I know this sounds off to you
I acknowledge that my behavior may seem irrational or erratic to others


I do not lie, when I doze off spirits hope I die, whatever
I have dark, suicidal thoughts that plague me even in my sleep


Angels waste the time, they work together
I feel that I am beyond the point of redemption or help from divine forces


Scheme and plot on me 'cause I'm the son of man
I feel like I am a target for evil forces due to my religious beliefs


I hear voices from a dog like Son of Sam
I am plagued by auditory hallucinations that are reminiscent of infamous criminals like David Berkowitz


Don't give a damn if the bullets fill me
I am so deeply mired in my own despair that I am indifferent to my own safety


I don't wanna live, I hope they kill me
I am actively seeking my own death


Put me out my misery, I live in misery
I exist in a perpetual state of anguish and misery


I kill all my enemies 'cause I love company
I have a deep sense of isolation and loneliness that drives me to lash out at others


Those who seek me, are called wise men
I perceive anyone who tries to connect with me or understand my struggles to be genuinely wise and empathetic


Or either wise-guys I pray you comprehend
I hope that those who simply judge or ridicule me without trying to understand my situation can at least gain some empathy from my struggles


And realize I'm condemned
I feel like I've already been judged and sentenced to a life of misery and despair


No rest, homicidal dreams
My lack of sleep and constant nightmares are driving me to the brink of madness


My cellmate, all he do is scream
My fellow inmates' constant noise and disturbances add to my already unbearable living conditions


Out loud how he wants to go home
My cellmate's constant pleas for a way out of this situation remind me of my own hopes and fears


That's funny, I'm here all alone
I realize the irony that I'm actually the one who's truly alone in this situation


Locked, in a single cell
My life has been reduced to a tiny, confined prison cell


His back's bleeding, he's cold as hell
I'm surrounded by violence and suffering on a daily basis


And I'm hoping, they turn on some heat
My basic physical needs are not being met, and I am desperate for even minor comforts


I call the C.O. To bring some extra sheets
I'm forced to rely on authority figures for even minor variances from the monotonous routine of prison life


"Where'd he go?" He walk through walls, run halls, I pray "teach me"
My cellmate's ability to seemingly disappear and evade the authorities makes me question my own sanity and want to learn from him


They don't see him at the health they try to reach me
My mental health caregivers do not believe that my cellmate is real and see it as a symptom of my own delusions


I said, "Please see how he feels"
I empathize with my cellmate and want someone to care about his well-being


They said, "He's alright but he's not real"
My requests for basic human compassion and recognition of my cellmate are constantly denied


Evaluations say I suffer from depression
My mental health is in shambles and diagnosed as major depressive disorder


Hallucinations, self-creations, what they're guessin'
The doctors attribute my hallucinations to imagination rather than external stimuli


I'm here doing years, I'm stressin'
The length of my sentence and the inhumanity of prison life exacerbates my already fragile mental state


Medicate me, sedate me want me to rest and
The authorities' solution to my problems is to medicate me into a drowsy state


Don't take it cause he said that won't be best and
I've been warned against taking the medication by my mysterious cellmate


He said I need his help and he needs me
My cellmate is working with me and we are interdependent for our mutual survival and support


"You walk through walls, go home you're free"
My cellmate imparts his own special knowledge to me and encourages me to break free


Home, that was far and he was turned off
The concept of returning to my previous life feels distant and unattainable


'Cause his wings was burned off
My cellmate may be an angel who has lost his true identity and power


A lesson was learned, communicate with one
I have learned the power of connection and mutual support during difficult times


I was chosen cause I'm God's son
I am imbued with a divine purpose and must accept my situation and its inherent difficulties as a part of that plan


(And I'm the retarded one)
Despite my perceived importance and divinity, others still look down on me as unintelligent or slow


Days and times
The passage of time is a constant reminder of how little progress I have made


Watch as we get ours with rhymes (you're all just statues with liquid Titanium)
Despite the overwhelming sense of futility and hopelessness, we find occasional moments of release and expression through our music




Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Capitol CMG Publishing, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: PERCY L CAREY

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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