Simon Says [US Remix]

Pharoahe MonchPharoahe Monch 

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Pharoahe Monch

Troy Donald Jamerson (born October 31, 1972), better known by his stage name Pharoahe Monch is an African-American rapper. He is known for his complex lyrics, complex delivery, and internal and multisyllabic rhyme schemes. more »

Year:

1999

155 Views

Playlists:

#3

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Get the f*ck up!
Simon says get the f*ck up!
Throw ya hands in the sky (Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo!)
Queens is in the back sipping 'gnac, y'all wassup?
Girls, rub on your titties (Yeah)
Yeah f*ck it I said it rub on ya titties
New York City gritty committee, pity the fool that act shitty
In the midst of the calm, the witty

Yo shut the f*ck up!
Luck said shut the f*ck up!
Bitches in the back, like crack get it cut up
I speak on behalf of them broads you call stuck up
Act like a man and get cocked, smacked or fucked up
Pull the truck up, Luck you know the name
Ass out in the bleachers stay shittin' on the game
I suppose what you're spittin' is flames, cowards
Knew your crew was vaginal, I could smell the dooch powder
Summer's Eve, I drop degrees chill
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly 'til you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices, either squeeze or peel, now that's real

What the f*ck's goin' on here, just a minute now, hold up
Sinister wit hit the time I diminish him finish him, roll up
When I'm, in a, cinematography state of mind
My rap trip, rip, flip, clip, say the rhyme
Shit, I spectacular run hit spit bitches vernacular
Miraculous rhyme flow, back track to the Immaculate
Binaca blast nigga that's fast, son I'll out-box ya
Ladies rub the ta-ta's, bras, titties and knockers on the floor
Owww! Fellas pull ya cock out
On the verge to splurge verbs for third round knock out
Uh I bust a rhyme that dust frustrated rappers
Dust crush competition, lights out like the Clapper
The mic ripper, whip a nigga like a slave
Separate him from him from his fam, he don't know how to behave
Now, drag his ass, bag dun for his loot
Figure me to give a n*gger-y twenty-one gun salute
That's seven shots for 2pac
Seven for Biggie Smalls
Seven for Freaky Tah up in your neighborhood malls
How's that, fat action packed rap remain tame
Pharoahe fuckin' Monch, ain't a damn thing changed

Yo yo get the f*ck up!
Funk Doctor Spock said get the f*ck up!
I got a bitch named Nina and I tuck her
I leave a nigga hangin' like ya mom's muffler
Snuff her, then my boys follow up
Respect like The Fonz, you see the collar up
I spit out a bullet, load the barrel up
I kamikaze ya town off a Arab bus
Karat cut, yeah mami pull over
I bend ya pussy like for years I knew yoga
I'm too smoked up, I can't remember me
Off Hennesy, that's why I carry Mini-Me
I need fifty feet when my performance starts
I push a armored car wit enormous hearts
Nineteen inches, I'm not on the charts
Doc turnin' dark off a warning shot
Drive off and pop, six in ya hood
(F*ck the limelight, we rhyme tight, plus snatch the goods)
Yea-yeah my nigga, one rhyme and you fold over
I'm hot-headed 'cause I walk with cold shoulders

Yeah get the f*ck up!
Simon says get the f*ck up!
Throw ya hands in the sky (Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo!)
Jersey in the back, jackin' cars, now wassup?
Girls, rub on ya titties
(Yeah) That's right I said it, rub on ya titties
Brick City, gritty committee, pity the fool that act shitty
In the midst of the calm, the witty

Yo yo get the f*ck up!
Yo yeah I said it, get the f*ck up!
Walk through Shaolin after dark, you get stuck up
Seek and destroy, baddest boy when I'm puffed up
Ya know my name, and Pharoahe Monch, why we came what?
We off the chain, plus we plottin' on the game, what?
Know ya role, by the way tuck ya gold
And you and your mic can ease on down the road
Assholes are like opinions, everybody got to have one
Shootin' in the sky tryin' to blast sun
Zero to sixty in a second, pull a fast one
Fifty cent flashin' they hate us with a passion
Mashin', still fresh in three-day old fashion
Your plaid, I'm stripes, together we be clashin'
Here's a Tunnel banger
Wu-Tang death penalty, the gas chamber
This gon' hurt me more than it hurts you
Slap ya like the doctor the day your momma birthed you
Just so you can feel me
The same way I'mma feel this world when it kill me
Even if time stands still, I'mma still be
Underground and filthy, gotta have our Way like the Milky
Innocent until I'm proven guilty
Never got caught in the game of tag
Momma never kept a boyfriend with kids this bad
No justice, raider ruckus
Underground 'til we under ground
But y'all first motherfuckers

My thugs, throw up ya set
And shorties rub on ya breasts
Get the f*ck up, outta that dress, I palm tits
You herbs get flipped like jeeps on mountain cliffs
I'll rip through your chest, hollow-point talent tips
Double-S, double the threat, double your bet
Double up on that cash if you decide to invest
You sound like Big, you sound like Jay, you sound like D
And I bet, when I go plat, you'll sound like me
Shabaam Sahdeeq, injure your fleet into delete
Y'all crabs are weak, frail like a fiend's physique
I stay on the street, stay on the beat, stay with the heat
Stay stickin' fools like you for the rocks that gleam
So toss that link, dummy, shoulda insured that link
Straight to Canal I'll praise that link, then pawn that link
You froze up, Sahdeeq says shut the f*ck up
Punk niggas get gun-butt up and tied up

Busta Rhymes is like Hacksaw Jim Duggan, been thuggin'
Lovin' the way we flood jewels for nothin'
Lay it over, another ambush we take over
Yo we don't only get money, we cut the coke and cook the shake over
You better guard your head right, especially if it's late at night
Or find your picture of your autoposy up on the web site
Yo if you ever violate my space
F*ck a fat lip, I'll leave you with a fuckin' fat face
Nigga, Busta Rhymes the handsome, I'll hold you for ransom and some
Like the ghost of a haunted house, I'll forever live in a mansion
Bitches, snitches comin' out and you know who's showin' it
Like when British civil servants pass secrets to the Soviets
Y'all niggas is seemless blends of seemless friends
Live on about the souls on a bunch of seamless ends
Collosal, me and my nigga Pharoahe Moncho
The head honcho, gettin' this money like Leonardo (Do-Do-Do-Do)
Enough substance in the roughness
Now watch it come around in an amazing large abundance
Now let me clear the smoke screen you blow fiend
Live nigga shit that'll rebuild your whole self-esteem
Pledge allegiance to the flag of united live niggas of America
Let us control and own the fuckin' area
Wildin' in your whip until you crash the whole truck up
And if you know what's good for you nigga you better get the f*ck up!

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