Space Ho's - Dangerdoom, MF DOOM, Danger Mouse

How they gave his own show to Tad Ghostal?

Any given second he could go mad postal

Stay wavin' that powerband space cannon

And had the nerve to jump in the face of Race Bannon

Punked out

Luckily he deaded it

Guess who’s the schmuck who’s credited with editing it

Your man Moltar, the copout

Ain’t have no other career choice, he dropped out

Since when the Wayouts included Zorak

Way back he used to rub his thorax in Borax (evil Zorak laugh)

I’m not the one that sold him to it

If he won’t admit it, I’m not gonna hold him to it

It’s all love and no hate though

For all that, the Villain need to get his own Late Show

Do a monolouge and jest with the guests

Madlib switch the beat and walk him to the desk

With Danger holding down the control room

Late again returning from commercial, I told you, Doom

Early, he’s on BPT

Catch him on public-access free TV

And we’re back live on the air with Brak

So, Brak, how your man got a show that’s so wack?

(Brak: What?)

Have you ever thought to work with Err or Ignignokt and them?

(Err: Ha ha!)

Do you got enough oxygen from this toxic phlegm?

Another sec, his neck woulda got flames

Mouse switch the screen to some hot dames

Tonight’s audience received big screen video games

And fifteen seconds of fame, pitiful lames

It’s just a shame, zoning

Competing for the same primetime slot as Conan

No, dummy, Ichigawa

Announcement: free lunch to any stunt who lets me plow her in the shower for a

hour

The kids supposed to be sleep

Or else the joint’ll sound like Road Runner, beep beep

Later this week, Big Ben Klingon

After him there’s no one else we could afford to bring on

Keep it ghetto

And let em know BYOB from the get-go

I’d like to propose a toast

To the grossest host

Space Ho’s coast to coast

That destructo ray’s a played out gag

And the cape and the pantsuit, looking like a straight out…

Dag, don’t mean to sound crunchy

Hit a honey from the back and crumpled up her scrunchy

A light snack hungry munchie

Felt a funny hunch, then she told me «Donkey-punch me!»

Tomorrow is Father Guido Sarducci, Father MC and Charo, coochie coochie

With her new bestseller, «Who you call a hoochie?»

A proud sponsor of the Snoochie Boochie Noochies

Look Leela eyeball to eyeballs

And find out how to get inside them sugar pie walls

Our next guest, a real cutie specimen

And she’s starting to get a little booty, Miss Judy Jetson

So, Judy, boxers, briefs, or fig leaf?

As you know I wear my boxers on my big…

Cue the rapper, tell him bring what little he got

Up against the Villy, is really not diddly squat

Until they head hurts

When it come to wreck

Cruisers like them dudes in red shirts off Star Trek

He Kirk, he Spock, he McCoy

Been b-boy since you jerks first squeezed toys

Born to be the host with the most

When it’s on it’s on

Space Ho’s, coast to coast

Do you think I’m just gonna hand over my show to you, Doom?

Have you lost your

f*cking mind?

Listen, I’m not gonna hand my show over to you.

You know why?

Because it’s my show.

Mine.

Not yours.

Space Ghost.

It ain’t Doom Coast to

Coast.

Yeah, yeah sure, here are the keys to the show, why don’t you drive for

a while?

Yeah, America’s craving some Doom, here you go…