Thirteen Lyrics by Organized Konfusion

Thirteen Lyrics

    [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!

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