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* ironically, this is the second-to-last song on the album |
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(Prince Poetry) |
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Lemon to a lime, lime to a lemon |
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Confusin the men-tabolism in men and women with |
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lyrical re-citals that I'm givin, some consider |
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me an intellectual hip-hop transmitter |
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(Pharoahe Monch) |
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Lime to a lemon, a lemon to a lime |
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I flow to many.. rhythms, to many rhythms |
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I rhyme, off of the tempo, sim-pl-istic |
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But consequently distorts the instru-mentality |
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causin an illusion |
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Organized, but at the same time, Konfusing |
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(Prince Poetry) |
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Wack emceeeeeeeeeeeees, your time is up! |
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Your rhymin suck (suck), on my stack |
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Your climbin up but not to par, Prince, Poetry posesses |
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the correct, literature showin you who the best is |
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Be-hold the Prince rose to the special occasion |
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Servin a bowl of Bran with the extra Raisin |
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Organized Konfusion blastin you with a |
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missile, designed for a ripper, rippin up mics |
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for crowds just like any-body |
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who rocks parties cause we carry Good-N-Plenty |
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(Pharoahe Monch) |
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Mmamamm-many mma-many many moons ago |
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When I reminisce I used to flow to slow |
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beats, keepin the pace straight |
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Capital M capital O capital N capital C.. |
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cap-i-tal H, relates to a terrific |
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So never anticipate, on a specific style |
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when I ?stiplicate?, my hieroglyphic file, wait |
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I'm the prolific child (these.. are..) |
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Styles are (simplistic) we (rhymes) |
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Like a lime (to a lemon) and a lemon (to a lime) |