Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Prisoners Of War, artist - Organized Konfusion.
Date of issue: 28.10.1991
Song language: English
Prisoners Of War |
I stand here before the forces of evil with a style |
The poetically God-gifted child |
Bringin' forth the story of a lyrical soldier |
Blessed to manifest in the eyes of the beholder |
Words of wisdom never abuse the lines |
They increase, as I release a phrase like a Uzi 9 |
From the larynx |
Shot in repitition, words never heard before |
But still the rendition of rap will enable me to attack |
From dawn to dusk, for liberation |
Driven I will never give in to interrogation |
The rank, given to me, the Pharoahe |
'Cause every blow flows like a crossbow |
Equipped to pierce your soul with a poison-tip arrow |
Any man wearing a blindfold can be misled |
But wise are the ones with the eyes in the backs of the head |
Here’s the key to unlock the door: |
Imagine a poet without poetical flaw |
Rhymes are for sure as an attack |
'Cause they adapt to combat for the prisoners of war |
I drop, smash and cause a damage equivalent to a hydrogen bomb |
Raidin' villages like a poetical soldier in Vietnam |
Poetry releasin' deadly gasses |
Bodies deteriorating as they stalk past the fatal acids |
As a rebel of rap, I stop |
Load the Luger as I manuever with precaution |
As I verbally counterattack |
Striking like a mad sniper 'cause I’m the type of hyperactive viper |
To wipe away the enemy with no remedy |
'Cause I’m the epitome so don’t try to get rid of me |
You little itty-bitty twenty-five automatic, you’re killin' me |
'Cause I’m a Glock 9 that will rock your mind, distortin' it |
Shorten your brainwaves |
As the rhyme intertwine with the sign of the times |
Don’t sleep 'cause I creep attackin' from the side that is blind |
Therefore I gotta be hard to the core |
And I walk as a prisoner of war |
Wake up to the mathematics of an erratic rap |
Rejuvenator of rhyme, that sort of come automatic |
Poetical medical medicine for the cerebellum |
I divert 'em and flirt 'em, insert 'em then I repel 'em |
A breakdown, poetical shakedown |
Fifty-two pick-up a stick-up so get on the floor facedown |
The ammo to keep the people steppin' |
Breakin' open the vault because I’m like a verbal assault weapon |
I’m mathematical, acrobatical |
Attack the wack, take rap to the maximum |
You’re strung out, you’re hung out when you heard the style that I brung out of |
thin air |
Must come out my mouth where I stick my tongue out in the atmosphere |
Take a good look at what’s happening here |
On the microphone, I’m rappin' |
Pickin' 'em, stickin' 'em up |
Breakin' 'em, shakin' 'em up and bashin' |
The lyric dictator, the aviator of antonym |
All beware to prepare for the guillotine |
Rhymes go express, expert, extreme |
Be up to par with wisdom and intellect |
Detatching one’s head directly from one’s neck |
Still I’ve been illing and drilling your brain |
Like a villain I came in the darkness to spark the literature for sure |
When I rhyme for the prisoners of war |
There is strength in my men-tal-bolism |
Brains to spare upon info, knowledge, data |
Greater aspects affects my future environment |
So in the event I drop science to suit ya, uproot ya |
Hunt ya down |
Verbally attackin' from the ground up to intellectually shoot ya |
Lurkin' through the shadows of darkness, shots fired |
The spark hits the trees, releasin' lyrical ammo |
While I camoflouge in the flash of my stature |
Mentally cease MCs that be surrounded I capture |
Enemy lines are crushed, bum-rushed |
And plus your government officials are corrupted |
'Cause they’re down with us |
Poetical rebels on a rampage of wrecked dialects |
Blown lyric projects |
Heat is scopin' you through my infrared twenty-twenty scope lens |
Steppin' upon base that’s when the Organized Konfusion massacre begins with a |
blast |
Never will an intruder approach 'cause they will never ever last |
'Cause the task is total termination |
Poetry and the Pharoahe starts as the revelation |