Correction Lyrics Goats Head by Pharoahe Monch

Back

Lyrics

Please excuse me, baby, but I know I've been gone a long time
It's hard for me to pay these bills (It's pretty hard), it's difficult for me to write these rhymes
But I think a time has come for me to man up
Will the real goat now please stand up?
Hands up (Hands up), hands up (Hands up)

See, rumor has it that I use the F-word a lot
f**k you, shut the f**k up
And also Scorpios like to F a lot
Screw you, what the f**k?
They can't f**k with the gear or the outer wig
My whole New York steez are f**ked outta here
New bars to bang my bear rocks
This year we gon' take it all the way to the top
With an entirely new f**king plan
This year I'ma be the f**king man, huh
Rap circles around your mind, that's profound rap
You shouldn't respond or try to wrap your mind around that
These artists are like mirrors, gross
You all resemble my pupils when I look really close
They pop pills and use syrup
I use syrup to pill, pickpockets and pop toast and I
Cut the goat's head off and show the planet
Cut the goat's head off and view it panoramic
Cut the goat's head off, set off a whole new topic
About the top-five anti-satanic

Vomit methodical gospel, agnostic apostle
Pop sh*t and kick two Chinese chop sticks through your nostrils
Stand ten feet tall
Reading Rumi in the room, it's not really roomy at all
Handmade tales of truth, never tales of grandure
The master of ceremonies, the handmaids' commander
Slaying these serpents twice, especially if it still slithers
Morph a singer into a duck, just before I hang 'em
I burn 'em at the stake, until the spill withers
Sleep with a pair of dimes that don't mind that they time split
Plus they promote me too, that's the paradigm shift
Juxtaposition is that opulence is limited
Women offering me top 'cause I'm popular with the penmanship
Got ice on my watch like an undoc*mented immigrant
So I doctored the dockets so that the doc*ment could benefit
I'm begging you please, no more slow-mo
No more free promo here, my n***a, that's a no-no
For rappers with the sheer audacity to ask a verse is pro bono
They never had a clue, that's on the low though
Always had a motherf**king hunch, quasimoto

Please excuse me, baby, but i know I've been gone
A long, long, long, long time
Don't know if I'll ever be back again, nah
You need to love me (Love me), love me, (Love me)
Love me, (Love me), love me, ohhh

Stop the music, stop the music
What's the matter, you need more oil?
No, that beast. He's checking us out

music video

Your name will be published. Leave fields blanks to remain anonymous.