Tekstovi: Pharoahe Monch. Internal Affairs. Rape.
I'm obsessed with multiple nude photographs
Of the beat in my room on the wall
Ponderin' the verses, fondlin' my balls and
Witness a nigga who will take rap and chase it
Through unoccupied dimly lit staircases and rape it
Grab the drums by the waistline
I snatch the kick, kick the snares and sodomize the bass line
Never waste time, I give the verse rabies
Cum on the chorus, tell the hook to swallow my babies
Maybe I might switch, let the witch live
The original plan was to kill the bitch on the bridge
Ditch the body parts off somewhere near the crescendo
When my innuendos elapse, my mental window attacks
The instrumental elapses
Perhaps that's the only reason that I spared her life
You could solo my fuckin' vocals and I still get trife
Slice the rhythm, disfigure the face of the groove
For any fader that flies or knobs or button that moves
Consider this, the loops are similar to clitorises exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of sin
That doesn't end 'til I stop fuckin'
A million emcees and they ain't sayin' nuttin'
Ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it like me
Yes, yes
She had the nerve to take the case to court
Knowin' I rape for sport, took the stand cryin'
Denyin' her whole involvement lyin'
Why would an ex-cop lie in a sex shop, fly linen down grinnin'
With my coat over my shoulder sittin'
Browsin' pornography, the stenographer smilin'
The whole time while jottin' verbal photography
Her eyes mahogany, I flashed to a photo in my mind of a body
Bludgeoned with slashed arteries
Pardon me, back to the case, slap in the face
Examinin' the jury similar to crackin' a safe
What happens to bass? It was anistic, I would inhale eighths
Sniff that, sat her ass all over my face to taste it
To hell with 1980 remixes, fuck disco
Turned on the 3000, stuck my dick where the disc go
Yokonaz, ripped the sexy MPC 60, buyin' a ticket to hell
Verbally dickin' the 12 down, sound shitty
I knew she used to be gritty
Too many impotent emcees in this God forsaken city
Ain't fuckin' her right, ain't fuckin' her right
Ain't fuckin' her like me
Consider this
(What?)
Loops are similar to clitorises exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of sin
That doesn't end 'til I stop fuckin'
A million emcees and they ain't sayin' nuttin'
Ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it like me
Of the beat in my room on the wall
Ponderin' the verses, fondlin' my balls and
Witness a nigga who will take rap and chase it
Through unoccupied dimly lit staircases and rape it
Grab the drums by the waistline
I snatch the kick, kick the snares and sodomize the bass line
Never waste time, I give the verse rabies
Cum on the chorus, tell the hook to swallow my babies
Maybe I might switch, let the witch live
The original plan was to kill the bitch on the bridge
Ditch the body parts off somewhere near the crescendo
When my innuendos elapse, my mental window attacks
The instrumental elapses
Perhaps that's the only reason that I spared her life
You could solo my fuckin' vocals and I still get trife
Slice the rhythm, disfigure the face of the groove
For any fader that flies or knobs or button that moves
Consider this, the loops are similar to clitorises exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of sin
That doesn't end 'til I stop fuckin'
A million emcees and they ain't sayin' nuttin'
Ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it like me
Yes, yes
She had the nerve to take the case to court
Knowin' I rape for sport, took the stand cryin'
Denyin' her whole involvement lyin'
Why would an ex-cop lie in a sex shop, fly linen down grinnin'
With my coat over my shoulder sittin'
Browsin' pornography, the stenographer smilin'
The whole time while jottin' verbal photography
Her eyes mahogany, I flashed to a photo in my mind of a body
Bludgeoned with slashed arteries
Pardon me, back to the case, slap in the face
Examinin' the jury similar to crackin' a safe
What happens to bass? It was anistic, I would inhale eighths
Sniff that, sat her ass all over my face to taste it
To hell with 1980 remixes, fuck disco
Turned on the 3000, stuck my dick where the disc go
Yokonaz, ripped the sexy MPC 60, buyin' a ticket to hell
Verbally dickin' the 12 down, sound shitty
I knew she used to be gritty
Too many impotent emcees in this God forsaken city
Ain't fuckin' her right, ain't fuckin' her right
Ain't fuckin' her like me
Consider this
(What?)
Loops are similar to clitorises exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of sin
That doesn't end 'til I stop fuckin'
A million emcees and they ain't sayin' nuttin'
Ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it right, they ain't fuckin' it right
They ain't fuckin' it like me
Pharoahe Monch