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"Whoop whoop whoop" - KRS-One 'Sound Of Da Police" [Verse 1: Torae] Yo, this be unorthodox Dunn awesome ock Niggas ain't on they job Dumb off the clock I'm all on my watch Y'all all have to watch How I made niggas run into a halt and stop Hot Scorchin' mic devices Nice since, Morgan Freeman got his driver's license Niggas bars aight, but really that hype shit Is Torae, Phonte, Big Pooh and Khrysis Whoop whoop is the sound of the po po But the sound of my vocals, sound like a choke hold All over these so called Niggas that's so dope Nigga you about as hot as a snow cone (You so gone) Your monic is monic go way about your head like yamakas I'm fire everyday like it's Chanukah Thermometer monitor Meteoric measurer barometer Rhymin' niggas don't wanna follow, huh The Donald Goines of flowin' Cause when I pen it, I go when I'm heartless/Hart less Like the brothers of Owen I already got it done I'm just keepin' it goin' This is grown folk talk Youngin' speak when you spoken Hopin' the hopeless note these bars that I wrote If you devote your focus you could come as dope as this This track's atrocious The verses too Cause we got Khrysis on the board like he's surfin' dude [Interlude: Phonte] Yeah, it's Little Brother. My nigga Khrysis on the beat. My nigga Tor Let's show these niggas what MCin' sounds like man [Verse 2: Phonte] Ayo, get on the mic spit a couple of verses Make niggas give it up like "What the fuck is my purpose? Cause he's such an elaborate wordsmith." Phon-teezy Spit greezy like a bucket of churches Three piece These streets wanna see what I'm workin' with So you Ringling niggas can stop that Circus shit Y'all got hip hop soundin' like kids-bop So I'm gonna murk these tracks like Berkowitz The Son Of Samuel, watch me surface with A new rhyme that make y'all wack niggas call time out Let's talk real shit If you can't feel this You sniffin' that Lohan or smokin' that Winehouse I'm on the grind now Just tryin' to find out If y'all niggas really gonna waste your time Takin' shots at Phonte, wastin' all your rhymes Wanna step to the kid, you done lost your mind I'll do your school of thought like Columbine Can't stay there in Virginia Tech all combined I'm a Reservoir Dog like Harvey Kei.... Tell the truth when most niggas will hardly drop When I roll through the 'Boro they say, "Phonte home." When I spit that hard shit they say, "Phonte wrong." Sang a hook, they be like, "Uww, that's Phonte's song." 24 bars, it's over nigga, Phonte gone Like uh uh on [Verse 3: Big Pooh] Hear ye hear ye, come one come all Niggas pray and pray on my downfall I can get knocked down, be back tomorrow Pooh still looks fresh, no scrapes or scars Get on my Suge Knight, puff on a cigar Or my Tracy Chapman, this is my guitar And my best so far, continues to be light years and your sub par Like if we both box, with me you couldn't spar Be who you are, that's lame my nig I'mma be who I am, won't change for shit Greatest in my hands with a hell of a grip Don't quit your day job, that's a hell of a tip Kind of funny finding you on mine, don't trip I write rhymes daily Records come yearly Got to make sure all my people gon' hear me Told y'all sincerely, I won't quit Triumph in my words, every line I spit Jim Crow wack niggas, to the back you sit It's Rapper Big Pooh, small minds don't fit Tell 'em H.O.J. is the crew I'm with Bull City down here, better come meet quick Even on black ice, won't see me slip Put the pressure on niggas, make 'em all submit What what what