Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rapid Eye Movement, artist - Pharoahe Monch. Album song PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.04.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: W.A.R. Media
Song language: English
Rapid Eye Movement |
Black Thought and Pharoahe, the rap duet |
It’s that lucid rapid eye movement |
My think tank’s like a piranha tank think, multiple bites figure |
Mega, reality, tera, giga |
Grand Theft Auto, modern day Mickey and Mallory Small |
But I’m sick enough to walk into an art gallery and piss on a Picasso |
Crack statues, rub my balls on a Banksy shit on it and throw it at you |
So when the beat intensifies |
I become emotionally desensitized |
Like, once I slapped a rapper with mace |
Then I spit acid in his face, after he rinsed his eyes, no wait |
I actually grew five times my size grabbed Ma$e by the thigh and slapped a |
rapper with him |
Now that’s practicing sacrilegious activism |
Attack is for battle, and practical rap with wisdom |
Actually, it’s pragmatic capitalism for actors that crack under pressure and |
collapse when I get 'em |
Monch is medicinal man made medical marijuana |
With a phase plasma rifle like I’m searchin' for Sarah Conner |
And shorty’s got brains, shorty not playin' |
From 40 blocks I’m a killa with 40 watt range |
With an arrangement of bullets that I’ve arranged |
Encrypted in scriptures specific individual names |
That shall remain anonymous |
Me and the ammunition’s in a relationship that’s monogamous |
It’s like I’m married to the silencer |
Until I file for divorce and release my ex-calibers |
Do art with your arteries, place that for my adversaries |
Push your snap back cap back, cap your capillaries like |
It’s not latin, or white, or black music |
It’s that cooked up coke, crack music |
Black Thought and Pharoahe, the rap duet |
It’s that lucid rapid eye movement |
Vocally twice as magnifying as ever hearing Chewbacca scream |
Through a megaphone with the significance of Dr. King |
Philanthropic |
Cause I’m trying to see man united without referencing UK soccer teams |
My philosophy prophecy |
The opposite of Mephistopheles' eye inside an isosceles |
Sent to Earth to warn of environmental atrocities, and nobody can copy me |
Stop, it’s not possible but probable that it’s only philosophical mockery, |
strange |
Change copper to gold, switch properties, bang! |
Stay on top of the globe, flip monopolies, aim |
Take stock in the soul, spit properly |
Take stock in the soul, spit properly |
That extended clip on my hip sits awkwardly |
I’m diabolical, follicle triggers that I cock and squeeze |
Sending shots to ancient Greece to pop Socrates |
I bear arms like button-downs without the sleeves |
Manic depressive and possessive like apostrophes |
My psychiatrist waive the doctor fees |
When I wave the pistol and say listen, quit watchin' me so I can breathe |
National Association for the Advancement |
Of drugs for performance enhancement |
And it’s tough taking so many chances |
But I’ve been a bad seed from the womb, they call me ovary cancer |
And I got an ugly heart, although I’m totally handsome |
And I take the love of your life and hold her for ransom |
And my tactical cam that never stood for any national anthems |
What’s hood, I am the actual answer |
And I’ll prove it |
Black attire, rapid fire, rapid eye movement |
I’m from a species that is higher, I am not human |
Extraterrestrial alien, a monster killer of conscience chillin' |
In a barrel of lobster |
Ex-Slave, sadomasochist, that gave the massa my ass to kiss |
A dyin' breed, I’m the last of this |
Black is as miraculous as Jesus of Nazareth |
When I vocalize the crowd rise like Lazarus |
It’s the Rhode Scholar, my coat collar piss off PETA |
Your hoes holla, he’s on top of the bars |
Meet a Mr. Globe Trotter in my Adidas |
Pure cheetah, hoppin' out of this exotic European 4 seater |
Hollerin' cheeba cheeba like I’m Parkside |
Killin' is the dark side |
Villain, I’m God, I’m Godzilla |
Sometimes I’m Bob Dylan put blood on these tracks, for real |
So, God-willin' you’ll feel what I’m spillin' |
Yeah, I never quit, I’m still syndicatin' up |
Me and Pharoahe Monch, did it for the benefit of us |
This is straight razor behavior, I never get enough |
Get the picture, my militia gettin' ignorant as fuck |
Yea, it’s suicide murder |
Straight from the underground through the fiber optics |
Pharoahe, Black Thought, complete the cypher |
The movement outlandish |
It’s not latin, or white, or black music |
It’s that cooked up coke, crack music |
Black Thought and Pharoahe, the rap duet |
It’s that lucid rapid eye movement |