Lyrics
[Pharoahe Monch]
I stand here before the forces of evil with a style
The poetically God-gifted child
Bringin forth the story of a lyrical soldier
Blessed to manifest in the eyes of the beholder
Words of wisdom never abuse the lines
they increase, as I release a phrase like a uzi 9
from the larynx
Shot in repitition, words never heard before
but still the rendition of rap will enable me to attack
from dawn to dusk, for liberation
Driven I will never give in to interrogation
The rank, given to me, the Pharoahe
Cause every bro flows like a crossbow
Equipped to pierce your soul with a poison-tip arrow
Any man wearing a blindfold can be misled
but wise are the ones with the eyes in the backs of the head
Here's the key to unlock the door:
Imagine a poet without poetical form
Rhymes are for sure as an attack
cause they adapt to combat for the prisoners of war
[Prince Poetry]
I drop smash and causin damage equivalent
to a hy-drogen bomb, raidin villages like
a poetical soldier in Vietnam, Poetry
releasin deadly gasses, bodies deteriorating
as they stalk past the fatal acid
As a rebel of rap, I stop, load the Luger
as I maneuver with the caution as I verbally counterattack
Striking like a mad sniper cause I'm the type of
hyperactive viper to wipe away the enemy with no remedy
cause I'm the epitome so don't try to get rid of me
You little itty-bitty twenty-five automatic, you're killin me
cause I'm a glock 9 that will rock your mind
Distortin it, shorten your brainwaves
as the rhyme intertwine with the sign of the times
Don't sleep cause I creep attackin from the side
that is blind, therefore I gotta be hard to the core
And I walk, as a prisoner of war
[Pharoahe Monch]
Wake up to the mathematics of an erratic rap
Rejuvenator of rhyme, that sort of come automatic
Poetical medical medicine for the cerebellum