What's Love

[Verse 1: Torae]

Coming up they told me love was the message

That somebody ain't get the memo if they left it

Kids at the table, can't feed 'em love for breakfast

Wife say she love a new pair of shoes and a necklace

So what's a real nigga to do?

When the masses get asked if they love what you do

And over half that they ask got rebuttals like ''who?''

We ain't heard you on the radio, dude

But not exactly

The real hip hop be coming on real late

And half the shit they got in rotation is real fake

And all the real fans supporting it is real faint

And that's how all your real love can turn into real hate

But this music shit, it ain't nothing like it

Gotta love the rush that you get when you feel inspired

Loving how the crowd'll react when you recite it

Gotta love it even days when you despise it

I swear ain't nothing like it

[Hook: Torae]

But love can't pay these bills

So please believe I'm here to get these meals

Got me asking ''what's love?''

And loving how you stressing for sure

So love don't live here no more

Got me asking ''what's love?''

[Verse 2: Torae]

I got niggas that love how to truly spit

And I know niggas that love doing foolishness

Use to think I would love to be in the music biz

But now I'm asking ''what's love got to do with it?''

Politics kick back, favoritism mishaps

Niggas getting higher, then fired, then put your shit back

Like the headline on LeBron, you here now and you on

Go to sleep and wake up and you be hearing that you gone

Another love T.K.O

Totally killing your output if you ain't know

You gotta grind like you making love, love like you made it come

It's love out here on this court, come and get you some

So niggas asking ''where is the love?''

That ain't love in the video and love in the club

Labels loving your movement and loving your buzz

Then bring you in for the meeting, preaching ''love ain't enough''

But this music shit, it ain't nothing like it

Whitney overdosed and Dion became a psychic

Michael medicated and Ron Isley indicted

Gotta love it even if you didn't like it

I swear ain't nothing like it

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Pharoahe Monch]

(The L)

Good Lord, I know these ladies love luxury

That's laminated at the top of the list - but look luckily

At least when my lungs were lacerated

I never behaved scorned or gave a sworn affidavit

When I hit rock bottom like Goliath after David

Literally when these lame labels medicated

I liberated my life with love and levitated

And left every lyric I laid completely obliterated

(The O)

Must be on on top, but no options

And you can't operate orally without oxygen

I was stealing petty cash when they were past the offering

In line on sundays, that's when I knew I hit my optimum

Low, but I still got a stand in though

You know? I guess who really needs to know

I guess the oodles of O's will never grow

Unless you use your noodle they quadruple like voodoo

(The V)

Van Gogh verbally, victory won't visit you

When your vibe's violated and adverts are not visible

And vocally the volume's muted

Very devoted, but every conversation convoluted

(And the E)

Epilogue, editor, my etiquette elicited

My effort exponentially expands when solicited

The E-M-C-E-E

You know you have to say it twice, but only if you're nice

Cause it's nothing like, it's nothing like

[Hook]