Released: March 1, 2012
Featuring: Pharoahe Monch
Songwriter: Pharoahe Monch
Producer: Madlib
[Pharoahe Monch]
Basically I'm the worst nightmare you ever had
Figure a trigger happy nigga with a badge
Parading around Los Angeles
High off coke with a banana clip
Feasting off the weak street evangelists
With a manuscript in professional ass-whipping
Task force, brass knuckles, a master in ass-kicking
If you ask for it, I blast for it, you're back flipping
No one saw it, I won't stop, the clock's ticking
Got a rookie for a partner that's ready to fight niggas
The world's a merry-go-round, I stereotype niggas
He's a spit in the face for pitbull or bite niggas
Matter of fact, kinda like this cat for a white nigga
The projects on lock, they trust my logic
Cause the star cops got it from guns to narcotics
My object is to deprogram, blind your optics
You cannot stop this mission, this topic
Cause you could write tickets my nigga or get paid
Learn this game in the streets or get slayed
Collect this cheese at the end of this maze
Or hit the desk and fill out forms for days
Need I remind you, how easy it would be
To take the city by storm, with a whole force behind you
Shottie in the trunk and on my ankle there's a nine too
Cause psychologically the guns you use will define you
Evil streets don't sleep, be careful with whom you mingle
In a city where it pays to be bilingual
Yo soy grifo, no me importa tu culo, si, via a diablo
I'm five-oh, leaving enemies dead on arrival
For a couple of mil', and you're fucking the deal up
Try to play hero cop and you still suck
Put you to bed, one in your head, you won't feel much
Basically I'm the worst nightmare you ever had
Figure a trigger happy nigga with a badge
Parading around Los Angeles
High off coke with a banana clip
Feasting off the weak street evangelists
With a manuscript in professional ass-whipping
Task force, brass knuckles, a master in ass-kicking
If you ask for it, I blast for it, you're back flipping
No one saw it, I won't stop, the clock's ticking
Got a rookie for a partner that's ready to fight niggas
The world's a merry-go-round, I stereotype niggas
He's a spit in the face for pitbull or bite niggas
Matter of fact, kinda like this cat for a white nigga
The projects on lock, they trust my logic
Cause the star cops got it from guns to narcotics
My object is to deprogram, blind your optics
You cannot stop this mission, this topic
Cause you could write tickets my nigga or get paid
Learn this game in the streets or get slayed
Collect this cheese at the end of this maze
Or hit the desk and fill out forms for days
Need I remind you, how easy it would be
To take the city by storm, with a whole force behind you
Shottie in the trunk and on my ankle there's a nine too
Cause psychologically the guns you use will define you
Evil streets don't sleep, be careful with whom you mingle
In a city where it pays to be bilingual
Yo soy grifo, no me importa tu culo, si, via a diablo
I'm five-oh, leaving enemies dead on arrival
For a couple of mil', and you're fucking the deal up
Try to play hero cop and you still suck
Put you to bed, one in your head, you won't feel much
more tracks from the album
From the album