Organized Konfusion
Rock- rock on with your bad self

[Verse 1: Pharoahe Monch]
Coming-uh, coming-uh
I'm comin' like a redneck trucker!
Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it
Face the ba** drum, you run when you hear it
It's the most incredible rap, individual style
Piles up like drug cases in Queens
County Criminal Court, shorty, step back
N***a you oughta watch it, my whole herd's packin'
F**k rappin', let's take it to the corner of the block
And battle with the {TECs} and the {Glocks}
But if you'd like it to the stage and mic it
C'mon dere, that's how I like it, uh!
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 its name and change its religion
Then I chop the foot off the f**kin' beat
For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete
That's just the state of mind that I'm in when I...

Rock- rock on with your bad self
[Verse 2: Pharoahe Monch]
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 decaffeinated, 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 a**ault and conquer, the cult and brainwash
And squash your little minds with rhymes
Rhymes that are rituals
So I say motherf**ker, b*t*h-a** and Glock to spark brain cells
Not to sell units, you know
They say motherf**ker, b*t*h-a** 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 gla** 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 sh*t like Sinead when I...

Rock- rock on with your bad self
[Verse 3: Pharoahe Monch]
Pa-pa-pa power power, ugh, I got the power
Gimme a pen and a pad I'll be back in an hour
With some more fat sh*t, I tell ya, MC Monchichi
I'm kickin' the po' black sh*t 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 *gunshot*
I never ask the crowd to jump
I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind
Flippin' it for the ma**es, kickin' a lot of a**es
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 f**k 'em
Suck my d**k from the back
With a crazy straw, you lazy w****
Do that sh*t to make a d**k expand but whatcha did
No teeth, no hands
Moolie, what am I an a**hole?

[Prince Poetry]
What am I?...
Ahh! Uhh! Mmm, hah!