Thirteen

[Hook] 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 bass 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 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 {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 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... [Hook] 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 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... [Hook] 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 shit, I tell ya, MC Monchichi I'm kickin' the po' 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 *gunshot* 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 teeth, no hands Moolie, what am I an asshole? [Prince Poetry] Asshole! What am I?... Ahh! Uhh! Mmm, hah!