Madvillain is an American hip hop group consisting of MF DOOM (MC/producer) and Madlib (producer/MC). Their debut album Madvillainy was met with wide critical acclaim for its unique approach—short songs, obscure lyrics, few choruses and a sound which was generally unfriendly to commercial radio.
In 2006, Madvillain was featured on Stones Throw and Adult Swim's DVD/CD Chrome Children with a new song and live performance. Kidrobot followed this by announcing a Madvillain action figure.
Madvillain's label Stones Throw has announced in 2009 that MF Doom and Madlib are currently working on a second Madvillain album.
On May 26, 2010, Madvillain released the song "Papermill" via Adult Swim's website. On January 3, 2011, Madvillain released the song "Avalanche & Victory Lap" via Stones Throw mixtape.
In late 2011, during an interview at the Red Bull Music Academy in Madrid, DOOM admitted that the second Madvillain album had been nearly done for about two years and that it should be out "soon", sometime after DOOM finishes his part on it in "say, January" 2012.
Villain'll hold the mic like he's mean and his tummy hurt
In a clean pair of ripped jeans and a bummy shirt
Wonderin would you clap your hands if he was friendly?
Dapper Dan dipped and pretend to be Fendi and gold sellin
No tellin, slap a fan hand down, tell 'em "no yellin"
DOOM- all capitals, no trick spellin
Got what it take to get it through your thick melon
(Woopwoosh!) Fresh witty city skits
When he get wrecked, pretty emcees catch titty fits
Told them call the cops, just don't hold your breath for the ball to drop
Better yet, hold on to your halter top
Kept reppin, steppin in hotta
Ignoring pigs like Bigs Top Shotta
Survivor of a live crew, not out to jive you
It stings when he laugh when he at the bank drive-thru
Wildin', get me every red penny
Sold a lonely only child a imaginary enemy
When he sees the mask and the microphone gizmo
He's the broke host this is like his own quiz show
This go out to all my brothers doin long bids and sisters
Who got brothers bein fathers to the wrong kids
Stay strong and ride like the funky flute
Won't find the Villain in the street inside no monkey suit
Or either at the bar in no gorilly bra
Nor raceway park scoring on no silly car
Ask the stranger he knows who you really are
Behind the mask face stay dark, no boring willy star
Gleaming, dreaming, screaming- he'll be off the heezy soon
Cunning live rats drive at your steaming greasy spoon
In participating places tip your waitress'
A sure fire way to wire, trip the matrices
Skip ya laces, all black tennis miniature
Ball stack, gall tall pack, Guinness minister
Tussle the hustle, cut your dank with dirt
Won't be in the club in no muscle tank shirt
You could find 'em in the pub with the grub stain
Chuggin on a small tub of pain to his bugged brain
Insane, some say he plum crazy
Amazed at how he still get paid but dumb lazy
That's for him to know and for you to guess
Won't be caught in a suit vest at no computer desk
A suede front, maybe may stunt khaki dig