 Stress: The Extinction Agenda » The lyrics [+ Bæta við +] |
1. _ Let's Organize
[q-tip]
Yeah, check it out, we here with the big o
With the big big o, and you know
What we want y'all to do is just bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce
C'mon bounce, c'mon (c'mon we gotta) bounce
(c'mon, hah) bounce (we do it like this one time, uhh, sup, sup)
Verse one: prince poetry, pharoahe monche
Do you wanna hear, the boogie bear
Jump up and do the freak funk, throw your hands in the air
Compare me, with none
The son, of the king, triple crown, just to get the job done
I surpass fast dash through a mass of traps fliers
And blow up the spot, and organize on that ass, i'm hot
Black, with no sugar straight coffee
You stalk me, because your girl wanna hawk me
Jock me clock me watch me mutilate the mic
Rip it apart, shatter your brain when i strike
Add a syringe of raps to cleanse you fall apart
Style damage you amateur cause i'm blowin your file
Honey-dips see me and they yellin organized
And they know -- pharoahe monche's got skills for the wise
Ohhhhhh, huh, shit! look who walked in the door
Ryyyyyuuuu-kick, tiger tiger uppercut
Directly to the gut, when i strut on mics
Makes my windpipe erupt
Better back off, i jack off of wack mc's in the vicinity
Nigga please, i make em bounce
Chorus: repeat 8x
[q-tip] let's organize, c'mon (we gotta bounce) we gotta bounce
Verse two: prince poetry, o.c.
I make you stomp back and forth like an army brigade
Diode cuts love kid wherever skills is displayed
Raid your block blow your mind like fans
In the summer or like redman, ready to rock
Expanding my cleverness on wax, to japan and back
Ask for prince and hon i hope ya got
Just five seconds for black prince to flex
It's not all about sex
I like ears smooth skin and sensitive necks
Victoria's secret couldn't keep you from the prince poe
So peep it when i funky technique it
For those who slept, wake up, ya better make space
Taste the bread i break off, as i take it to your face! whew
Can you keep up like skeleton watch organized konfusion troop up
Li-li-li-li-live with the style that's fly
Prince poe i, flow smooth like silk so freak me
Cause i ain't shai!
So, o.c., let em know how we go
Come again my friend with another funk flow
Look who just came in, o.c.'s gamin
Crew's i set you up, to lynch for a hangin
Bangin, bodies up in a tree like a pinata
Many, claim masculine, but sport garters
Whose the artist, not video, more-so to luke
It's like square dancing on your toes so bounce
Chorus 1/2
Verse three: prince poetry
Well here's a toke one time for you mind
Most just can't cope, dope def, booty nope i woke you up
I poke your brain i poke your main artery
Batter me, with your fattery your flattery will never ever shatter me
Prince poe, the exec with the intellectual concepts
That elevates you like steps
A&r reps, take steps, bounce your ass through the hoods
Here's the goods, an ounce, enough for you to bounce
Chorus
{q-tip shouts out various hip-hop boroughs and people}
more free lyrics |
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2. _ Intro.
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3. _ Drop Bombs
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4. _ Stray Bullet
Verse one: pharoahe monche
Let the trigger finger put the pressure to the mechanism
Which gives a response, for the automatic *bang*
Clip to release projectiles in single
File forcing me to ignite then travel
Through the barrel, headed for the light
At the end of a tunnel, with no specific target in sight
Slow the flow like h2o water
Visualize, the scene of a homicide, a slaughter
No remorse for the course i take when you pull it
The result's a stray bullet
Niggaz who knew hit the ground runnin and stay down
Except for the kids who played on the playground
Cause for some little girl she'll never see
More than six years of life, trif-le-ing
When she fell from the seesaw
But umm wait, my course isn't over
Fled out of the other side of her head towards
A red, range, rover, then i ricochet
Fast past a brother's ass, oh damn, what that nigga say
"aww fuck it", next target's margaret's face *bang*
And i struck it
Now it's a flood of blood in circumfrence to her face
And an abundance of brains all over the street
Shame how we had to meet *bang*
Dashin, buckin, greet by fuckin family
They follow behind me in a orderly fashion
Bashin through flesh i'm wild
Crashin through the doors of projects hallways
To deflect off of the tile
I'm coming for you little girl
Once inside i shatter your world
Swirl, no more dreams no hopes when i spray
You better pray, to the pope or the vatican
Before i go rat-tat-a-tat again
I'm mad again brother somebody's mother will be sad again
But, whose blue skies will turn grey
From the attack, of the mac-11, i'm a stray, bullet
[nobody seen shit, nobody heard it -- 4x]
Verse two: prince poetry
Gun balls of fire, i'm travelling at higher speeds
To proceed to penetrate flesh, hitting the splint
After splitting the chest of a queens fiend
Age of pagers shredded to pieces from the glock 9
And it's hollow tips, it releases the polices
In back of the ambulance
Blood loss as i shift across your chest
Arrest, rupture, i mess up ya, slasher
Shall i bust ya liver, faster, blood pours *bang*
Now it's up to the master, boom, as i crash open the doors
Thank me for spraying the operating room
The body still consumes me, doc had to remove me
Mmm lord, why do they use me? *bang*
I'm takin individual for keeps hobbes
So peep the cops, in the ghetto bustin shots for props
And when i hit, shit *bang bang bang bang*
Soon you forgets-me-not
Cops tried to explain to his pops what i done
I flip up the hollow tipper and i'm not the one
And as a human i'm the surprising one
Prince po i flow the ripper, either way
You never, ever know how i'm coming
Metamorphasizing, rising in turbulence
Condensed into a bullet, pull it, now i'm making moves
With no sympathizing, uhh, so take a hit nigga, sprint *bang*
Onto the scenario, i'm at a party with o
A lot of honies parlay and the dj's playin the fudge pudge flow
Five niggaz come up in the club for a rub
[yo o peep it, oh shit o duck (oh shit!, oh shit!)
*pop pop pop pop pop* *woman screams*]
Another hit, another struck
Here comes mr. stray bullet
Five, the tip, getting my jollies from the screams of the ripped
In your chest, then i flip
Nip your liver, blood flowin like a river
Money starts to shiver then i give a delivery of burns
Bruises fake shoes is your renaissance
No response your moms is out cold
Figure i'm bigger takin your heart nigga at twenty years old
Stray bullet
more free lyrics |
5. _ Stress
Chorus: repeat 4x
Crush, kill, destroy, stress
Verse one: prince poetry
Pain, stress
My brain, can't even rest
It's hard to maintain the pressure on my chest
Excess frustration strikes!
Blood rushes my head when i come across roads
With dead mics and wack promoted shows it's hard
But with the presence of god
I'm true to the game
So i'm back black, to take charge, and recap-ture
The time, wish it could never be wack -- i'm pure
I insert my lifeline into the track, the energy
In me is a poison with no un-revealed remedy
I'm spreading, like leprosy, throughout the record label
Cause mines put me and monch's career in jeapordy
Can you come see me in the ghetto where it's dark
Bullets are real lost peeps lurks in the heart
Lord knows it hurts, we kick the hertz to the curb
Execute first things first, and put blunted minds to work
My herd's tight and my fans supports
So i'm a-ight, for the time being seeing peace
But taking no shorts (no shorts)
Chorus
(album version includes a short "taxi cab" skit here)
Verse two: pharoahe monch
Rarrrrrgh!
You will now consider me the apocalyptic one
After this rhyme, henceforth, there is none
No more will exist, when i emerge
From the mist in whence i was born into, scorned
Most of you can't even comprehend what i am saying
To you even in my human form the message i'm relaying
Why do you choose to mimic these wack mc's?
Why do you choose to listen to r&b?
Why must you believe somethin is fat
Just because it's played on the radio, 20 times per day?
My perception of poetical injection is ejactulation
The immaculate conception
The hall walker, who stalks bodies in central park
Soon emergency services'll outline that body in chalk
Then i begin to walk away and spit
Then when i walk away i talk shit!
Huh, a driver sprayed my face with mace
She didn't know that i enjoyed the taste of radioactive waste
When i'm in the backseat of your mid-town taxi
Don't even ask me for the cash g
The four cabs before didn't pick me up
Now ask yourself who the fuck's gonna stick me up
Chorus
more free lyrics |
6. _ Why
So yo, why you trying to play me though?
Out like a sucker (repeat 4x)
[pharoahe monch]
You're sneaking around like a sneaker baby, what's the beeper for?
Used to do my chores, now you're acting like a whore
Phones at my grip with you off to the store
For now, you don't love me no more?
Hey, by the way who's curt?
Left a message on my machine said you didn't come to work
You awol from the job, plus who's rob?
The way you're acting, i think you've been slobbing him
Sometimes i swear i think about robbing 'em
But my papa told me never to snuff no girls
You give 'em diamond, jewels, furs, pearls
Rings and shoes and cars and things
From time to time i wanna diss her
You couldn't play me if i cheated like amy fisher
And dismiss her from the courtroom in a yugo
You know, something like joe buttafuco
Well deep inside my heart, the pain still stings
When i think back and remember i was gonna swing her a ring
For her fing finger, yes i used to bang her
Like "inga binga bunga" but i'm out like philip summers
So yo, why you trying to play me though?
Out like a sucker (repeat 4x)
[prince poetry]
I reminice back when i was swinging with mish pretty young thing
She got a kick outta, my jeep and a meal at burger king
And a shotta, ??? down with my maturity
Getting papers from port authority doing security
Uh, she just used to climb up in my whipper whip
Just to stress a nigga quick, young she's on a ego trip
Quit being "ha ha" i had to stop the pigeon
Step, find a dove who comprehends exactly how i'm living
So i met a girl around the way from the uptown
Set, we used to drown in sweat, uh
She was my dollar til i lost my 9 to 5
She started dissing listen pretend then shitting on my pride
She tried to crush my pride so cut off to the next
Uh, not for the sex, this one used to run through the projects
Gossiping with the next about the next
Loved to cover her neck, for stress gave her a cat as a pet (meow)
It's major in a which, when she wanted to flow
Flowing with this nosey hoochie when i was out doing my shows
Doing a demo, demo, dembo, dembo
Dembo you can't front, you used to bust a load on prince po
And fall fast asleep into the morn
Girlfriend started flipping, so yo prince had to be gone
I'm just another brother trying to get around the feds
And keep my mental state, no matter what it takes
So yo, why you trying to play me though?
Out like a sucker (repeat 4x)
more free lyrics |
7. _ 3-2-1
[prince poetry]
Yo check it out, we gonna do it like this for the '93 flava
Know what i'm saying? letting you know this is organized
We got the crew in the house,
And we definitely representin for the masses
So my man pharoahe monch gon' step to mic
Let you know what time it is
We gon-na do it like this, check it out
[pharoahe monch]
Help me out, to my peeps in queens, clap your hands
To my peeps in brooklyn, clab your hands
To my people in the bronx, clap your hands
To my peeps uptown, clap your hands
It's three strikes, two tokes, one time for the mind
Three strikes, two tokes, one time for your mind
Three strikes, two tokes, and one time for the mind
Three stickes, two tokes, and one time...
Surprisssssse! huh, open your eyes up, when i rise, huh
Pharoahe monch i got skills for the wise!
Dumb, deaf, and blind you know it's time to organize
I'm flippin and rippin a style for the boys who wanna get wild
For the old and young, the golden child
I be the man with the gift of gab like santa
Catchin - stacks of beats, from here to atlanta
Ruah! what you say little weasel?
Can't block the foul if the style's cock diesel
I feel like busting loose
With the style that i produce to get juice from a troops
Black kojack, better than beretta
Any veteran knows the medicine man is better
Never sweat a girl that's inside of a jetta
I just let her pass by with a wink to the eye
It's the m-o-n-c-h, i, g-a-i
The greatest rapper you ever heard please won't you relate my
Message to my critics, get it when you rewind
It's three strikes, two tokes, one time for the mind
It's three strikes, two tokes two times for the mind (repeat 8x)
[prince poetry]
Check who gets wreck, it's me, prince po
Old school flowing, rolling thick with the o
R-g-a-n-i-z-e-d, peace to the pioneers that made a way for me
To mc, and tear the roof off the mother, brother
So back on the underground because we love you smother
Wack mc's, like gravy on chicken
Hope some of the homeless say that our jams is kickin
Stickin flavor, in your grill piece
Pickin fat loops for troops to bop to, when time is ticking
Winding up, here comes the pitch
Prince po throws strictly fast flows with no specific type of niche
But sometimes you gotta slow down the flow
Blow up the spot and let the whole world know
Here comes the prince po with another funky intro
Something to parlay with and ease the mental
Our instrumentals are too much for the average fan
So i bring the jamacian funk (uh!) that's what it is
I am too dope, too fat, organized konfusion is back
That's with a "k" black, get the fly exact stack
The money, start the party cause organzied don't play that!
It's three strikes, two tokes two times for the mind (repeat 8x)
more free lyrics |
8. _ The Extinction Agenda
...the extinction agenda
......the extinction agenda
...back is the incredible o-r, g-to-the-a
N-i, z-e, d with a k
O-n-f-u-s-to-the-i-o-n
Verse one: prince poetry
Emerging up, to another level, there i stand
Hand to hand rap combat black
Back in the land i expand data for the wack
Leaving multilated bodies lacerated limbs grim sites
And new jacks, pick up six and grab the ore
Dig deep into the ghetto (absorb)
I take you to a new realm
Levitating above the norm anticipating me to pick up
Seven more new jacks and commencing with this and fading
(so how dare you question) the original aborigine
In the vicinity the city's committee consider me
The trilogy of terror, whatever i do i bring light
You're blinded by the glare of the trendsetter
Beware when i strike, blueprints like no other
The soldier of fortune, the undercover
Rebel of rap attackin the ones who's attackin blacks
I'm on a mission of peace, i make tracks
Elevate with the almighty god in front of me
Teach seeds in the hood the truth, the wannabe
Competitor will have no other choice but to surrender
Can't stand the pressure, the extinction agenda
Chorus: repeat 2x
The extinction agenda, hah!
The extinction agenda, uhh.
The extinction agenda, uhh
The extinction agenda, uhh
Verse two: pharoahe monche
I'm the poetical poltergeist i heist tracks from the past
And return 'em to the present time in rhyme form
What was once dead is now resurrected on the record
And the physical words are mere residuals for my bidding
For my disposal to dispose of... who are you kidding
Nightfall, i stuff the rook, then i'm looking for
The original book which contains the words of god
Six hours until dawn, my quest to capture the queen
Without being seen by the pawns
Call me bishop, bishop takes rook, rook takes pawn
Pawn takes knight, knight takes queen
Queen takes the original king james virgin (check)
I'm surgin up when i'm emergin
False clergymen you're urgin me to call you a virgin
When to say the least
Who can you trust when a priest is now the beast?
(who? what? why? and when?)
I'm the assassinator of rap
Hit rip rhyme rap ritual hit you with my best shot
Get you sit you down, let you know i never get dropped
When i flip-flop hip-hop, when i wreck shop (nigga)
I move, with the finesse and the smoothness
Even inside of the grooves of a record, check it
Check it again, check it again, check it again
Check the metaphors, make sure they're making sense and then
Gimme one-hundred percent credit
Let it, medi-tate, in your brain, like a seda-tive
I said it and i bet it dwelve in your bloodstream.... let it live
The verses of curses that burst in the face of the first time offenders
In the realm of the extinction agenda
Chorus
more free lyrics |
9. _ Maintain
[prince poetry]
I'm sitting at the edge of my bed and i'm fed
Up with negative thoughts running straight through my head
Life's ready and i can't make moves, it's hard
And i thought it would have been nice to buy papa dukes some shoes
Niggas try to get over, pressure on my shoulders
Dropped the fat lp in '91 of october
Now that i'm older and my man pops is gone
My focus is stronger, mom pick up your head, gotta move on
Do you remember mr. j used to say the beats was fat
But when it comes to business, nigga don't play
I look beyond all this stress to seek fate
Mad homicides, unemployment rates sky high
Shorty busting caps, cops caught him out there
Daytime drama and his mama didn't care
That's why i should be rapping and packing pistols on the bully
But niggas be stressing me and i ain't paid in fully
So i'm dropping something fatter, not for props
We're respecting the matter, hops
I'm fat, check my stats, prince drops data for me and my man pops
Rolls-royce and myself are always getting mad harassed by the cops
So now i'm in the chop shop creating masterpieces
So it don't matter money what my funny label releases
Thanks to the streets and my peeps that made me
And the la-la-lee, la-la-lee
We gotta maintain (repeat 8x)
[pharoahe monch]
Now it's been saaaaaaaaaaid, a grown man ain't supposed to cry
So whyyyyyy, are there tears inside my eyes?
I wake up in the morning, get some new problem
I just can't solve 'em
Yo, extreme kid, i'm telling you man, i'm on the brink of ???
Who's that man in the mirror? ha!
The picture's getting clearer and clearer, ha!
The end is coming nearer and nearer, ha!
Take a good look at what you fear, ha!
Time marches on and it's a new song
It's a new morning, it's a new dawn
Feet don't fail me now, i got to make it to the studio someway somehow
But i need a little bit of nourishment first
I stop at the store to quench my thirst
Why are they watching me buy my juice?
Why must they clock my buy my juice?
Just give me my change and please put my change in my hand
Man would you listen to me if i didn't have a tan?
All you have to do is show some decency
But you want to bring out the beast in me
Papa always told me...be all you can be
And maintain, gotta maintain
(ad-libs to end)
more free lyrics |
10. _ Thirteen
[pharoahe monch]
Comin ahh, comin ahh
I'm comin like a redneck trucker!
Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it
Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it
It's the most incredible rap individual style
Piles up, like drug cases in queens
Country criminal court, shorty, step back
Nigga you oughta watch it, my whole herd's packin
Fuck rappin, let's take it to the corner of the block
And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)
But if you would like it to the stage and mic it
C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh
Hit me in the face why don't ya
Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll
Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it
Then i take it's name and change it's religion
Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat
For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete
That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...
Chorus
I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table
This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind
Thus allowing me to climb and then shine
This is a process that will occur in due time
Bust, everything i thrust is activated
Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough
Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky
As if i was blanka
Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka
Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash
And squash your little minds with rhymes
Rhymes that are rituals
So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells
Not to sell units, you know
They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock
For the periodical table of contents symbol au
Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters
Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not
Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin
Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade
Raps shatter shows like grenades
I rip your shit like sinead when i...
Chorus
Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power
Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour
With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind
Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now
La-di-da, i flip it la-di
Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party
Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts
Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*
I never ask the crowd to "jump"
I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind
Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses
The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew
With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean
Here comes the rain again!
Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy
That's for the enemies, that's in the industry
Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em
Suck my dick, from the back
With a crazy straw, you lazy whore
Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did
No chief, no heads
Mooley, what am i an asshole?
[prince poetry]
Asshole!
What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!
more free lyrics |
11. _ Bring It On
Bring it on motherfucker bring it on (4x)
Verse one: pharoahe monch
Mind chip
I even be gettin more graphic than an neo geo
Thirty-two bit computer chip be slipped between my lips
And then i'll spit
Spit it out spit it out go ahead spit out
That itty bitty style you upchuck
Betta believe i buttfuck mc's from the rear it appears you're stuck up
It's my terminology that strike up mind and rips this beat apart
You know the many styles i choose will bruise crews from the start
I flow awkwardly cause awkwardly i flow that's to the rhythm
Incisions are made into the brain and then i begin to give em
A lobotomy, follow me i'm shapin your brain.. like.. pottery
All over the track
Gimme the p-h gimme the a-r gimme the o-a gimme the h-e, pharoahe
Crazy poison tip arrows are hittin you from all directions
You cannot dodge or manage to dislodge them from the point at
Which they are connecting
I am se-se-selecting a ne-ne-ne-new style
Live for pa-pa-pa-pile-piles of mc's who try to get bu-bu-bu-buck-buckwild
Fu-fu-fu-fuck dat, when i'm in a renovative state of mind
I'm innovative, never been afraid of rockin the microphone
I'm prone to be eliminating
Cling when i sing a song of sixpence if it makes sense then sing along
Cling along to my nuts if you got guts then bring it on
Bring it on motherfucker bring it on (8x)
Verse two: prince poetry
There is no equivalent one consider me the epitome of rhymes
Rhythm to techs execution is parallel to them with
An exception of the organisms
My telepathy cannot be dismantled so stop sweatin me
Advanced data now watch your greater updates so raps get trampled
Fe-fi-foe steps up elevations show
That i'm ahead of your time specifically right behind a dope rhyme
Rippin shit up at prime time i'm optimus prime/time material
Imperial wizard of vocabularic havoc i eat mc's like cereal
That's soggy, milky skills like mister miyagi
When it's foggy i release globby spits
Over names of rappers in the lobby as a hobby... i'll!
Rip your nitshit get stick quick get your crew before i do
Something gory to your quite futile styles
Miniature raps get waxed, simonized
Into the fifth dimension of your centifugal never typical stand attention
I'm, mystical rip shit til the power blows
Those chose to compete we delete em -- observe defeat
That's sending down from above to get cha hit cha split cha ditch cha
Picture you, victorious
I'm gory plus your shit's mad boring, bring it on
Bring it on, bring it on, bring it on motherfucker bring it on (2x)
more free lyrics |
12. _ Black Sunday
Lawd, help me out now
We gotta get together
We gotta organize
No matter the weather
It's a black sunday, hey..
[pharoahe monch]
I used to watch my grandmother catch the holy ghost in church
For her soul she would search
Five years later now i'm off to work
In a department store, i'm foldin pants and shirts-ah
At the end of the week-ah, lawd
Just enough loot to put some cheap sneakers on my feet
That's when i made a promise to my momma i said
"i betcha you see me at the apollo one day and i'ma..
Be kickin that fat funk shit;
Black, mackadocious -- speakers in the back trunk shit"
Cause the boss is boss and need is costing me
To miss classes and i feel he spoke to me
To be a jackass in the future; then, who's gonna shoot ya?
At this point in my life is where i chose to write rhymes..
.. instead of doing crimes
Nineteen eighty-six to nineteen eighty-nine
Organized konfusion, did not, get, signed
But we will soon one day, until then
I return at twelve at noon on the track, black sunday
Chorus:
Lawd, help me out-ah
We gotta get together
We gotta organize
No matter the weather
It's a black sunday
[prince poetry]
Yeah, remember losing a loved one, lawwwd help us to make it over
Delete the pork cigarettes and forty-nine cent soda
We came a long way and i'm still runnin for my freedom
Still have one hundred miles to go, escape from the
Crack villllles, so, you can feed that baby
I used to ride the elevator with the crazy lady
I year later i made demo cassettes with the monch
And ?tastik? was on the fader, rhymes ran out quick so i
Encouraged monch to start writing rhymes
And mrs. j cooked dinner then we came into same hard times
Sour contract shouldn't have been on the plate
Two apes escaped, back to l.a. with our demo tape
The state of mind i was in since paul sea died is that
I gotta get mines, representin 40 projects so i'm
All-in, gotta make papes and all that
Close my own record deal cause i can't fall for that
Old snake shit, hissin in the grass
For the cash, little cents, intuition listen
If you're missin my money, my fist you will be kissin
Dang... i don't even understand
Chorus:
Lord, help me out now
We gotta get together
We gotta organize
No matter the weather
It's a black sunday
Outro:
Check it out
Like to say whassup to my whole herd
Like to say rest in peace to my man ?dilu?
And rest in peace to my man juice
Three strikes
more free lyrics |
13. _ Keep It Koming
Intro/chorus: repeat 2x
We keep it koming
We keep it koming, huh
We keep it koming spark that l!
We keep it koming, uhh
And when it's time to organize
We stick together through the times
With the attitude like miles
We keep it koming
Verse one: prince poetry
I be flipping the scripts, ripping through hoods coming equipped
Lifts out of my lyrics sippin forties in a whip
Organized, rise raise up the level surprise!
Niggaz watch prince, open your eyes when i deliver
Give a honeydip a wink, thick chocolate bitch
Switch up the pace, kick me the digits later you can taste
The bass thumps for months, entrapped in the lab
With mad blunts, creating formulas that you can grab
I escape, the clutches of wackness, i'm like a mattress
Lay it down for the south side, sounds of blackness
Uh, ohhh, i keep it koming stunning you're running
Through states, to make pace gunning you down with the drumming
That rakes, in the dough
Oh, my god, times are hard so i gotta flow
Spark up the l, i excel over the stress
Crushing the competition that i stomp from east to west
Rest assured we will deliver the goods to the 'hoods
For the youth, this is proof we should
Well, organize got the bomb hard to stay calm
Forming like voltron and then attacking at dawn
Chorus
Verse two: pharoahe monch
When i'm fed up, i hold my head instead of me teasing
Yo ooh ooh child, things are gonna get easier
In my mind and in my soul
I can take control of a beat whenever i roll
Stroll up the block, 40-dog cocked back
In my knapsack is a uzi-wop, black whassup!
Spreading like malaria, but much scarier
Migrating in the whole tri-state area
Without a doubt, my niggaz never go out
They rock, braids and fades and baldies
And blow up and blew out throughout
The entire night i'm peepin you and
Your entire crew out -- what's that all about!
I suppose i be steppin to hoes when
I'm masking overconfidence, cause i know my new shit
Is gonna go platinum, i'm mathin em
Light skin ones inside of a maxima
On a passenger side, this is what i'm asking her
Hey baby you look so good
Why you driving through our neighborhood?
If raps i wrote were cookies, i bet you'd bite a chip
Rookie fetch a product, cause it took a long time to ignite
A fucking style from the end, back to the beginning
Niggaz is winning, prince, niggaz is winning
Keep the fat drumming running up your back
Black, with stacks of facts for the tracks
That you can react to
Chorus 1/2
Verse three:
We be the bread and butter making breaking crown facts around back
Cracking gunner sound heart starts to stutter when the bass
Pounds butter, like this
Rumbling cd crispy, no hiss
Rush you like russell, make you flip like knipsie
Wilson negative but can't see, but maybe one
Organized take the favor rated is my tip
To keep my peers motivated with funk, only we rip see
For years tears shed it but never let it
Mislead a nigga figure that i'd be runnin dogs you know
Chorus
Nigga
Yeah, uhh
Check it out
Extreme phat, with the pharoahe monch cheeba cheeba
Mr. prince po will flow...
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Íslenska 
