Organized Konfusion - Soundman Lyrics
[Pharoahe Monch]Yes yes yes yes yesYo Mr. Soundman!We would very much appreciate it(yes indeed) if you add a tad bit more midsand a little more lows to the mic (word up)I'm on mic number one, Prince is on mic number two (yes yes yes)A little bit more but RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT THERE, yeahOne more, c'mon, uhh (recognize)C'mon, right yes, yes, right here, uhh, c'mon, downSorta similar to the way I remember to be the wordsmithPharoahe, God's gift to vocabularyMy personal soliloquies be killin me softlystill I be packin artillery, y'all feelin me yet?Props don't stop HERE niggaI knock MC's out of a six-sided figureMy strategies be tragedy to MC'swho receive certificates from rap academiesI'm terrific with wordplay (wordplay..)Specific with verbs, say we step it up, to the next levelSee if I represent God.... then all my competition is exclusively LuciferSee y'all used to the niggaz who would say Devil right? (right)But I ain't them (nah) they ain't me (uh-huh)with some bullshit college-ass rappin degreeBut let me show you how we do it, duh duh duhDone with the disco fluid, duh duhBut if it ain't LOUD enoughwe tell the soundman turn that shit up up up!C'mon, c'mon[Prince Poetry]Yo Pharoahe, hold up hold up, check itLet me introduce myselfI'm Senor El Chocolate, creme de la creme, a la cheddyPrince Poe, God's gift to vo, cabularyVery visual, every lyrical slideis spiritually projected, forever insideNever to hide but to shine like, diamonds inside minesLet that ass marinate and Poe free flows over basslinesI'm, takin elevatin to nextplateaus rippin shows with this cosmic sexLove on CD's and cassettes and DAT's (now all rise)Now who masters the Funk, when it's time to Flex? (Organized!)From the Southside, spar chump MC'sthinkin they comp, but soon to get smoked like treesI eat MC's of ALL kinds, spit out the rhymeRegurgitate their mindstate, cause I don't eat swineSet it straight, online, internet programmed to climbYou might catch me in The Grind straight bumpin a dimeNow let me tell you how we do it (yeah yeah)With that old disco fluid (uh-huh!)And if it ain't LOUD enoughtell the soundman to turn that shit up (up) up (up) up, UP![Pharoahe Monch]If it.. uh... check it(Turn me up now.. oohhhhhh ohhh yeahOoooooh-ooooooooh-ooooh-ohh-oooh-ooooh)[Prince Poetry]Tinted V8, buck and a half on the dashAll weather Pirellis, the exterior color is cashBlack Italian leather, Nakamichi system to blastFull metal to the pedal when we Organize on that assI last, amongst the mass, gettin the cashBut in the stash fast before the stock market crashSplash, five quarts of straight water fortifiedFirst place to get this partyin onIn any club or on the corner in the box with popsIn barbershops ladies got with it in hoopties some in drop-topsLook at love-love, *****in with this top-notchboombastic, ghetto dope now, fly gymnastics of passionwith verbal toxic, rock shit (daily)(MMMmm) The soul controller up in the *****pitLock shit, with my robotic opticYou ain't *****in with this propher who's too tropic, stop it(Heyyy, Mr. Soundman, can you boost me, juice me up?)[Pharoahe Monch]I'm sendin them in YO' face!Spinnin them quick witSynonym blendin them in wit, homynyms entered inand by embalmin them wit, shit, whenever I spitNo need for me to go get old hit, records to go gold witYo' shit with absolutely NO innovation whatsoeverYou and all your mens not clever!Y'all need to be TOLD that shitYou ain't bold black plans of promotional schemes and scams are so wackTracks are trash to me, nigga actuallyyour platinum plaque should even go back to the factoryPeople wanna be like Michael and whenrecyclin when the fans wanna hear FRESH MATERIALFrom imperial rap pros who ORGANIZEGettin very intolerant at rap shows like lactoseIn fact those niggaz that act up get smackedbackwards for bein so anti-climac.. ticWatch any mack get, put on his back withlyrical tactics utilized without practiceThis is how we do it (YEAH YEAH) duh duh duhDone with the disco fluid (UH-HUH) duh duhBut if it ain't LOUD enoughSay if it ain't LOUD enoughSay if it ain't LOUD enoughwe tell the soundman turn that mother*****in volume up!Nigga
