[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 manuever 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 I divert em and flirt em insert em then I repel em a breakdown, poetical shakedown Fifty-two pick-up a stick-up so get on the floor facedown The ammo to keep the people steppin breakin open the vault because I'm like a verbal assault weapon I'm mathematical, acrobatical Attack the wack take rap to the maximum You're strung out you're hung out when you heard the style that I brung out of faint air must come out my mouth where I stick my tongue out in the at-mos-phere Take a good look at what's happening here On the microphone, I'm RAPPIN Pickin-em-stickin-em up, breakin-em-shakin-em up, and bashin the lyric dictator, the aviator of antonym All beware to prepare for the guillotine Rhymes go express, expert, extreme Be up to par with wisdom and intellect Detatching one's head directly from one's neck Still I've been illing and drilling your brain like a villain I came in the darkness to spark the literature for sure when I rhyme for the prisoners of war
[Prince Poetry] There is strength in my men-tal-bolism, brains to spare upon info, knowledge, data, greater aspects affects my future environment So in the event I drop science to suit ya, uproot ya Hunt ya down Verbally attackin from the ground up to intellectually shoot ya Lurkin through the shadows of darkness, shots fired the spark hits the trees, releasin lyrical ammo while I camoflouge in the flash of my stature Mentally cease MC's, that be surrounded I capture And enemy lines are crushed, bumrushed And plus your government officials are corrupted cause they're down with us; poetical rebels on a rampage of wrecked dialects, blown lyric projects Heat is scopin you through my infrared twenty-twenty scope lens, steppin upon base that's when the Organized Konfusion massacre begins with a blast Never will an intruder approach cause they will never ever last cause the task is total termination Poetry and the Pharoahe starts as the revelation