3-2-1 Lyrics by Organized Konfusion

3-2-1 Lyrics

    [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)

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