Pharoahe Monch — What It Is

[Intro] As we move forward towards the new millennium We will no longer communicate with vocal inflections It will be necessary to communicate through telekinesis We will open your mind and concentrate harder Focus, focus, focus, focus Hey, brother, what it is? [Verse 1] Raps like Star Wars, only the stars die, it's no sequels Beat three cases, see three POs Before Morpheus and Neo was killing 'em We was ducking bullets in the hood like Remo Williams Understand the underground Dom sipper Take it serious or die laughin' like John Ritter Young Eastwood, just trying to eat good Breathe easy, relax, mack like Fleetwood Keep snoring, keep sleeping, I'll keep touring Come back, lay in the cut like Neosporin Came out of the fallopian blasting Pharoahe hungrier than Ethiopians fasting Flies all in my teeth, stomach sticking out Niggas want dibs on the weed but ain't kicking out See, this is not American Idol This is me trying to eat, human survival Spit at your favorite rapper, take his title Stick needles in his eyeballs 'til his signs are no longer vital This ain't that, I'm not them These ain't those rhymes, I'm not him This is more like cocaine all night Shine like the new five halogen foglights No, more like sunshine And one line of mine'll remind you of when you were nine Before you were busting cherries, it wasn't necessary to grind then Now we all on our grizzly And you got the nerve to press Frisbees What it is [Chorus] What it is, what it is, what it is, what it is What it is, what it is, what it is, what it is What it is, what it is, what it is, what it is What it is, what it is, what it is, what it is [Verse 2] If I'm not home on the range, catch me at the range Practicing my aim, catch you in your brain Shame, they thought I was backpack Slept, didn't know that he kept inside the knapsack Today's niggas do skate-by hits Run in your crib on some Queer Eye For The Straight Guy shit But not homosexuals, they mastering gunplay Rearrange your furniture, fix your feng shui They be swearing it's cute But I be up in the club, box-cutter in the boot With the sex appeal and no ice either The right to bear arms, I'm not talking wife-beaters either When they see me they say, "That's that nigga" My last name should be 'That's That Nigga' Sounds kinda nice, 'Pharoahe That's That...' Never catch me with them plastic half-ass niggas With the flow that's so influential Niggas fucked up, they get no instrumentals now Next time you spitting on mine Bet your bottom dollar you be spitting over rhymes What it is [Chorus] What it is, what it is, what it is, what it is What it is, what it is, what it is, what it is What it is, what it is, what it is, what it is What it is, what it is, what it is, what it is