(Original by Dr. Dooom aka Kool Keith; Remixed by Leeroy Thornhill)

(Intro)
Yeah, to all my fans, for people who don’t know
What I’ve been going through to make my own, yeah...

Now its time to hurt your feelings as I upset music industry fans
Hey yo my man, look at my hands, they look human, right?
You think I’m a monster, ill circus clown, I’m not a specimen
Don’t look at me funny when I come around
And ya’ll been trying to figure me out for years
Trying to reduplicate me, but they can’t, so they hate me
While white boys rub the heads of black music with a Japanese assistant
What does a Chinese kid know about the rap game, it’s a shame
As I see ’em watching BET
There’s a million of creative rappers tryin’ to be me
I’m starting to feel like Jimi Hendrix
When they cover the story who started rock
Magazines put blankets over my interviews
They don’t want to see me on Channel 7 News
Tellin the truth of the project group
Which they always have secret spies in with eyes
Watchin me record my album, sending producers with wack tracks
And DATS, messin’ up my whole format
Can you imagine doing something that would need more to function
With an alternative hippy kid from the record label watchin your back
Talkin about Mariah Carey’s honky
Makin’ an average group buck dance like a barrel full of monkeys
While I break out to do the shopping, boy
You’re makin’ a quick phone call
About my sound is too new and different
I need to be a regular like Dru Hill, a little more ill
Hey Keith we want you to be ill!

Yeah, leave me alone!
Hey Keith, we want you to be ill!

Of course I’m hard to work with, cos you’re hard to work with
I don’t wanna be the Insane Clown Posse and collaborate
I’m tryin’ to innovate and think quick at a fast rate
Why you mad? Cos I’m original?
You can’t do the material
When I sit back and watch you act big
Spend your budget on your video
I’m in one of my 3 luxury apartments eating Raisin Bran cereal
While you front, ’lo I’ll take my white rhyme down to world’s Fargo
How long’s it gonna take?
900 thousand and clear, talkin’ with a clerk
I don’t need a binge this year
Took care of my paperwork
Take the United Taxi out to Vegas
While the average R’n’B group is doing a promo concert
Ignoring your phone calls from broke labels
Who try to put out underground MC’s
Try to get me to rap on a wacky-ass track with one G
How dare you try to insult me?
I got 40 grand for 3 minutes to write a song with Prodigy
Other crews don’t get, but you got the nerve to call me ”Welcome to the business”
Stand as a witness, work on your stomach, use physical fitness
I ain’t playin’ all this African stuff, all look the same

I don’t need a Joe Neckbone puttin’ his artwork on my CD
Enjoyin’ Apple Jacks and Honeycomb, with me sittin’ on the throne
No, I’m takin the regular picture by the hotel Saint Bonaventure
Besides I do wear a cold blue winter
And eat at beautiful resturants... yeah!

Yeah, leave me alone!
Hey Keith, we want you to be ill!

Why you think I should wear a motorcycle helmet?
Why don’t you wear it?
Put on some wings like a parrot
Let’s discuss this contract
Why are you hypin’ up a normal female group with fat cellulite that sound wack
Most of y’all goin’ out like Uncle Toms, like Louis Armstrongs
Wearin’ a tattoo and born on stage like Tracy Chapman
I canceled a big tour ’cos I was prepared
You’re on the roll with your damn money and ya’re all scared
Why ya’ll walkin, look hard like your manager got your name
All over your versatile card
And plus, this video treatment sucks
The fishlens effect
The lens to the camera only costs 100 bucks
Look at the director trying to tell me what to do
I’ve done this before
14 degrees freezing cold doin’ Poppa Large with a cage over my head, that’s dead
Don’t get your imagination too messed up
I’m wearing a Yankee hat and a Starter
I’m not dressing up
How you gonna tell me what to wear?
I don’t need mascara and a stylist
Save that for a big rock group like Pantera
Experience, Next Plateau, Mercury, Wild Pitch, EMI, Capitol, Dreamworks
Never got robbed, put my lyrics away and stuffed
Too many people with hands in my projects
Havin’ fantasies of me being Superman, you actin’ stupid man
I’m like Prince
You might see me once every 5 years at the record company
While most of you live at the label beggin for your rent and car notes to be paid
Under the table doing routine dances for advances
Oooh... you’ve been involved...

Yeah, leave me alone!
Hey Keith, we want you to be ill!