| Black Thought and Pharoahe, the rap duet
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| It’s that lucid rapid eye movement
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| My think tank’s like a piranha tank think, multiple bites figure
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| Mega, reality, tera, giga
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| Grand Theft Auto, modern day Mickey and Mallory Small
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| But I’m sick enough to walk into an art gallery and piss on a Picasso
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| Crack statues, rub my balls on a Banksy shit on it and throw it at you
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| So when the beat intensifies
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| I become emotionally desensitized
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| Like, once I slapped a rapper with mace
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| Then I spit acid in his face, after he rinsed his eyes, no wait
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| I actually grew five times my size grabbed Ma$e by the thigh and slapped a
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| rapper with him
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| Now that’s practicing sacrilegious activism
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| Attack is for battle, and practical rap with wisdom
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| Actually, it’s pragmatic capitalism for actors that crack under pressure and
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| collapse when I get 'em
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| Monch is medicinal man made medical marijuana
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| With a phase plasma rifle like I’m searchin' for Sarah Conner
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| And shorty’s got brains, shorty not playin'
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| From 40 blocks I’m a killa with 40 watt range
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| With an arrangement of bullets that I’ve arranged
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| Encrypted in scriptures specific individual names
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| That shall remain anonymous
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| Me and the ammunition’s in a relationship that’s monogamous
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| It’s like I’m married to the silencer
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| Until I file for divorce and release my ex-calibers
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| Do art with your arteries, place that for my adversaries
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| Push your snap back cap back, cap your capillaries like
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| It’s not latin, or white, or black music
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| It’s that cooked up coke, crack music
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| Black Thought and Pharoahe, the rap duet
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| It’s that lucid rapid eye movement
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| Vocally twice as magnifying as ever hearing Chewbacca scream
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| Through a megaphone with the significance of Dr. King
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| Philanthropic
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| Cause I’m trying to see man united without referencing UK soccer teams
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| My philosophy prophecy
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| The opposite of Mephistopheles' eye inside an isosceles
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| Sent to Earth to warn of environmental atrocities, and nobody can copy me
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| Stop, it’s not possible but probable that it’s only philosophical mockery,
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| strange
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| Change copper to gold, switch properties, bang!
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| Stay on top of the globe, flip monopolies, aim
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| Take stock in the soul, spit properly
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| Take stock in the soul, spit properly
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| That extended clip on my hip sits awkwardly
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| I’m diabolical, follicle triggers that I cock and squeeze
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| Sending shots to ancient Greece to pop Socrates
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| I bear arms like button-downs without the sleeves
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| Manic depressive and possessive like apostrophes
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| My psychiatrist waive the doctor fees
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| When I wave the pistol and say listen, quit watchin' me so I can breathe
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| National Association for the Advancement
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| Of drugs for performance enhancement
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| And it’s tough taking so many chances
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| But I’ve been a bad seed from the womb, they call me ovary cancer
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| And I got an ugly heart, although I’m totally handsome
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| And I take the love of your life and hold her for ransom
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| And my tactical cam that never stood for any national anthems
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| What’s hood, I am the actual answer
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| And I’ll prove it
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| Black attire, rapid fire, rapid eye movement
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| I’m from a species that is higher, I am not human
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| Extraterrestrial alien, a monster killer of conscience chillin'
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| In a barrel of lobster
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| Ex-Slave, sadomasochist, that gave the massa my ass to kiss
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| A dyin' breed, I’m the last of this
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| Black is as miraculous as Jesus of Nazareth
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| When I vocalize the crowd rise like Lazarus
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| It’s the Rhode Scholar, my coat collar piss off PETA
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| Your hoes holla, he’s on top of the bars
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| Meet a Mr. Globe Trotter in my Adidas
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| Pure cheetah, hoppin' out of this exotic European 4 seater
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| Hollerin' cheeba cheeba like I’m Parkside
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| Killin' is the dark side
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| Villain, I’m God, I’m Godzilla
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| Sometimes I’m Bob Dylan put blood on these tracks, for real
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| So, God-willin' you’ll feel what I’m spillin'
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| Yeah, I never quit, I’m still syndicatin' up
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| Me and Pharoahe Monch, did it for the benefit of us
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| This is straight razor behavior, I never get enough
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| Get the picture, my militia gettin' ignorant as fuck
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| Yea, it’s suicide murder
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| Straight from the underground through the fiber optics
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| Pharoahe, Black Thought, complete the cypher
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| The movement outlandish
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| It’s not latin, or white, or black music
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| It’s that cooked up coke, crack music
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| Black Thought and Pharoahe, the rap duet
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| It’s that lucid rapid eye movement |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Rapid Eye Movement , by - Pharoahe Monch. Song from the album PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп