Pharoahe Monch
What It Is lyrics
Songwriters: Stone, Lee; Jamerson, Troy Donald
As we move forward towards the new millennium
We will no longer communicate with vocal inflections
It will be necessary to communicate through telekinesis
We will open your mind and concentrate harder
Focus, focus, focus, focus, hey brother, what it is?
Raps like Star Wars, only the stars die
It’s no sequels, B3 cases, C3P0's
Before Morpheus and Neo was killin’ 'em
We was duckin' roulettes in the hood like Remo Williams
Understand an underground bomb cipritate
Get serious or die laughin’ like John Ritter
Young Eastwood, just tryin' to eat good
Breathe easy, relax, Mac like Fleetwood
Keep snorin’, keep sleepin’, I'll keep tourin’
Come back, lay in the cut like Neosporin
Came out of the fallopian blastin'
Pharoahe hungrier than Ethiopians fastin'
Flies all in my teeth, stomach stickin' out
Niggas want dibs on the weed but ain't kickin' out
See this is not 'American Idol'
This is me tryin' to eat, human survival
Spit at your favorite rapper, take his title
Stick needles in his eyeballs 'til his signs are no longer vital
This is ain't that, I'm not them
These ain't those rhymes, I'm not him
This is more like cocaine all night
Shine like the new five halogen fog lights, no
More like sunshine and one line in your mind
To remind you of when you were nine
Before you were bustin' cherries
It wasn't necessary to grind them
Now we all on our grizzly
And you got the nerve to press frisbees, what it is?
What it is?
What it is?
What it is?
If I'm not home on the range, catch me at the range
Practicin’ my aim, gat you in your brain, shame
They thought I was backpacks, slept
Didn’t know that he kept inside the knapsack
Today's niggas do skate by hits
Run in your crib on some 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy' shit
But not homosexuals, they master in gunplay
Rearrange your furniture, fix your Feng Shui
They be swearin' it's cute
But a B up in the glove box, cutter in the boot
With the sex appeal and no ice either
To fight the bear arms, I'm not talkin' wifebeaters either
When they see me they say that's that nigga
My last name should be 'That's That Nigga'
Sounds kinda nice, Pharoahe that's that
Never catch me with them plastic cat fast niggas
With the flow that's so influential
Niggas fucked up, they get no instrumentals now
Next time you spittin' on mine
Bet your bottom dollar you be spittin' over rhymes, what it is?
What it is?
What it is?
What it is?
…
What It Is lyrics © Trescadecaphobia Music; Emi Blackwood Music Inc.
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