El-P
Правда
Verse 1 (Your Old Droog):
We like Isaiah Thomas and Joe Dumars
You don't want no fuma
Actin' tough, you goops Harold and Kumar
Been jackin' too hard, I'm looking at these rappers like
Doc Umar looking at your white gumar
You mad they recognize my brilliance, spending tens of millions
Must be graffiti writers, way you in your feelings
Don't a minute go by your man is not complaining
All he do is f*ck up the bag like boxers training
Got restraint, ain't worried 'bout nobody hating
That's like the dude cursing at the sky for raining
Can't stop YOD, you can only try and contain him
Consumers see the difference when the product came in
Your boy put a lot of pain in
End of the day, still acknowledge that it's entertainmеnt
Who shot ya? Separatе the heat from Sriracha
Pеoplе watcher, I see the geek in your posture
They be like "How you living тварь"
I say "прекрасно"
Peace to Sasha, now у нас новая тачка
Old Russians in the spot, off a fifth of Vodka
Have one of my dogs, come flip you like a lodka
So we exposed these hassas, oh we got to
Fuck you and your phony patois, brody [?]
And your bitch, who she think she is? Patra?
Pussyclot тачка, Блядство
Yo I heard this hot head frontin' like he top shotta
Got bread but you dusty like ciabatta
Think you bright but I know somebody smarter
With an OCD mother and a musician father
YOD, I been this way since cats been wearing Pradas
Drop the hammer on the propaganda, all you hear is "Pravda"
Verse 2 (Mach-Hommy):
Lil' mama washing my feet like she was Magda
Mary, quite contrary, up in these streets with shottas
God body unique, I speak with the chakras
I'm sheek in my birthday fleek, peep the pasta
No costume jewelry for me, keep your propers
Put some langoustines in your cheek, eat your lobster
The coast guard buoy was deep
Peace to [?]
We survivors like Beyoncé and Kelly
All them other cocksuckers gotta slide on they belly
You not my brother, I'm liable to Nelly
Make a nice pair of boots with the hide and the skelly
I need a python trenchcoat
I been dope ever since GP and Shawn Kemp tho
Yo, next time we in Venice Beach, dropping a check off for Enzo

Verse 3 (El-P):
Ay, vomit on his squadron
What's wrong with this cheddar gobblin'?
Amnesiacs, y'all prolly forgotten, I'm filthy rotten
Gee-wiz, pardon, I'm tryna get to your coffin
Always do the Ed Lover dance on the spot, I drop 'em
The drugs are not a problem, they solve when you're over talkin'
They muffle the pollution, the noise of the soon forgotten
Even in a grave stay in J's and slick fades
Roll a pound and make it turn to a roach, call it a Kafka
Dark thoughts, often it's black and blue where my heart is
While you gather 'round gallows to mock all the departed
Famous for frying your favorite faces
But name an agent of danger more underrated, I'll pay ya
You hear me with a Droog and the mood is a hue of orange
We clockin' the never awesome, lick off 'til they cucarachin'
Wild world, they try to cut scars on any Mufasa
You corner me, get plated
I'm making fucker frittatas
Verse 4 (Tha God Fahim):
Uh, white sheets and toe tags when I approach mics
I do it from the soul, I don't do it for likes
We still lit like the stove that we boiled in rice
Keep a wisdom-body hottie that be sugar and spice
I rock the death ill kicks that be lavish and crisp
A first round draft pick with points and assists
They tried to score but they missed, I used the flick of the wrist
Pay no mind to your defense, you better off on the bench
I put in more work and less talk
All you see is white chalk, you couldn't keep up on the light walk
We dog bark, rappers just miss me with the small talk
All Hallmark rappers, we knock 'em out the ballpark
Checkmate, you'll never get a clean slate
We trendsetters, you just got up on the wave late
You showed up for dinner but ended as the main plate
I'll mash out on the buttons till the game break
I'll mash on the buttons, I got the game faced
Sportin' camouflage when I'm hunting, we not the same weight
To see the God, you prolly gon have to gain weight
Off a protein shake, vitamins in a rare state
Then prolly get you some All-State
You gon need insurance to get your endurance all straight
Right after the beatin' you take
In Dump Olympics, all categories I ate
Verse 5 (Black Thought):
Okay, let's separate the kings from the cabbage
Civilized from the savages and Gods from the average
The feasts from the famine, self-controlled from abandoned
My reach still expanding but I'm calm notwithstanding
Above and beyond
Sweating, who the close seconds is?
Toast your beverages in honor of the dope references
Hotepness is surpassed by the most effortless
Gross negligence lasts forevers on that mega tip
Let that message hit, tell your next of kin I got my second win
Returning beef back to sender, shaved extra thin
I bet the plot thicken if a boy test the pen
I let the pot thicken like some soy lecithin
When the chef adjust the temp, then turn the heat up
Keeta, more than just a pimp, I'm solid from the feet up
My blessings was a heaven-sent, I got it from the re-up
My family are where only those invited come to see us
Y'all haters hire for peanuts to try and come between us
Just a minor inconvenience
You should prolly come to Jesus
My passport full of visas
From back when going overseas was still allowed
No concern about diseases
He's the twentieth century's quintessential exemplary
Spitter for carrying the culture to where it was meant to be
Only thing I add up be insult to injury
Condolences and sympathy
The solar system ends with me
The sun's energy taken in form of poetry
I am the one, rappers is influenced unknowingly
What's worse is I don't do 'In Da Club' verses
I am subversive, my thoughts connected like cursive
Far as these other rappers all I got for them is nada
I'm a one person iron curtain, all you hear is "Pravda"