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Lirik Metal Thangz *
featuring O.C. Pharoahe Monch
[O.C.]
Yo unfold remarkable soul cold blooded
bleedin icicles equivalent to North Pole
Roll El Producto style buddha mindstate
but I don't smoke weed to proceed follow my lead
I Rock well when Somebody's Watchin Me rhymes fine
like Denzel havin shorties all jockin me
My poetry paintin pictures call me Picasso
Not so fast, put your microphone back in the stash
When I'm through foes with hoes, take what fits
You ain't worth what O.C. hold, dick made of gold
Soul controller, ruler of my dest', all eyes on me
like a pair of thirty-eight double-D's, rest assured
When I be on the mic, WAR, holdin the goods
like you buyin in the surplus store
You see I brought it down a notch so you could understand O
I'm smooth like a harp you, nothin but a banjo
So advance yo' tech-nine style, flipped off
Run into the likes of a Mongol slave
Fallout, the Gene-ral, be on command now
At the corner of the century, I'm the enchanted child
Fuck That abbreviated F.T., soon to come bust off
we bust back strapped ready for war
Chorus: Street Smartz
You when you hear this shit I bet your head'll swing
cause this a ghetto thing, where we pack metal thangz
just to settle thangz
(repeat 2X)
[Pharoahe Monch]
Get your motherfuckin orders of protection, MC's no question
See I was raised in the ill drug section
and that persuaded my poetical selections to be hardcore...
shit, I swore on my father's grave
I make slaves of niggaz who played brave
I craved to engrave my name inside of the pavement
and my basement's an arrangement of different torture devices
that slices, the
[O.C.]
Yo unfold remarkable soul cold blooded
bleedin icicles equivalent to North Pole
Roll El Producto style buddha mindstate
but I don't smoke weed to proceed follow my lead
I Rock well when Somebody's Watchin Me rhymes fine
like Denzel havin shorties all jockin me
My poetry paintin pictures call me Picasso
Not so fast, put your microphone back in the stash
When I'm through foes with hoes, take what fits
You ain't worth what O.C. hold, dick made of gold
Soul controller, ruler of my dest', all eyes on me
like a pair of thirty-eight double-D's, rest assured
When I be on the mic, WAR, holdin the goods
like you buyin in the surplus store
You see I brought it down a notch so you could understand O
I'm smooth like a harp you, nothin but a banjo
So advance yo' tech-nine style, flipped off
Run into the likes of a Mongol slave
Fallout, the Gene-ral, be on command now
At the corner of the century, I'm the enchanted child
Fuck That abbreviated F.T., soon to come bust off
we bust back strapped ready for war
Chorus: Street Smartz
You when you hear this shit I bet your head'll swing
cause this a ghetto thing, where we pack metal thangz
just to settle thangz
(repeat 2X)
[Pharoahe Monch]
Get your motherfuckin orders of protection, MC's no question
See I was raised in the ill drug section
and that persuaded my poetical selections to be hardcore...
shit, I swore on my father's grave
I make slaves of niggaz who played brave
I craved to engrave my name inside of the pavement
and my basement's an arrangement of different torture devices
that slices, the
