Prisoners Of War

I stand here before the forces of evil with a style

The poetically

God-gifted child

Bringin forth the story of a lyrical soldier

Blessed to manifest in the eyes of the beholder

Words of wisdom never abuse the lines they increase, as

I release a phrase like a uzi 9 from the larynx

Shot in repitition, words never heard before but still the rendition of rap will enable me to attack from dawn to dusk, for liberation

Driven I will never give in to interrogation

The rank, given to me, the

Pharoahe Cause every bro flows like a crossbow

Equipped to pierce your soul with a poison-tip arrow

Any man wearing a blindfold can be misled but wise are the ones with the eyes in the backs of the head

Here's the key to unlock the door:

Imagine a poet without poetical form

Rhymes are for sure as an attack cause they adapt to combat for the prisoners of war [Prince Poetry]

I drop smash and causin damage equivalent to a hy-drogen bomb, raidin villages like a poetical soldier in

Vietnam, Poetry releasin deadly gasses, bodies deteriorating as they stalk past the fatal acid

As a rebel of rap,

I stop, load the

Luger as I manuever with the caution as

I verbally counterattack

Striking like a mad sniper cause

I'm the type of hyperactive viper to wipe away the enemy with no remedy cause

I'm the epitome so don't try to get rid of me

You little itty-bitty twenty-five automatic, you're killin me cause

I'm a glock 9 that will rock your mind

Distortin it, shorten your brainwaves as the rhyme intertwine with the sign of the times

Don't sleep cause

I creep attackin from the side that is blind, therefore

I gotta be hard to the core

And I walk, as a prisoner of war [Pharoahe Monch]

Wake up to the mathematics of an erratic rap

Rejuvenator of rhyme, that sort of come automatic

Poetical medical medicine for the cerebellum

I divert em and flirt em insert em then

I repel em a breakdown, poetical shakedown

Fifty-two pick-up a stick-up so get on the floor facedown

The ammo to keep the people steppin breakin open the vault because

I'm like a verbal assault weapon

I'm mathematical, acrobatical

Attack the wack take rap to the maximum

You're strung out you're hung out when you heard the style that

I brung out of faint air must come out my mouth where

I stick my tongue out in the at-mos-phere

Take a good look at what's happening here

On the microphone,

I'm RAPPIN

Pickin-em-stickin-em up, breakin-em-shakin-em up, and bashin the lyric dictator, the aviator of antonym

All beware to prepare for the guillotine

Rhymes go express, expert, extreme

Be up to par with wisdom and intellect

Detatching one's head directly from one's neck

Still I've been illing and drilling your brain like a villain

I came in the darkness to spark the literature for sure when

I rhyme for the prisoners of war [Prince Poetry]

There is strength in my men-tal-bolism, brains to spare upon info, knowledge, data, greater aspects affects my future environment

So in the event

I drop science to suit ya, uproot ya

Hunt ya down

Verbally attackin from the ground up to intellectually shoot ya

Lurkin through the shadows of darkness, shots fired the spark hits the trees, releasin lyrical ammo while

I camoflouge in the flash of my stature

Mentally cease

MC's, that be surrounded

I capture

And enemy lines are crushed, bumrushed

And plus your government officials are corrupted cause they're down with us; poetical rebels on a rampage of wrecked dialects, blown lyric projects

Heat is scopin you through my infrared twenty-twenty scope lens, steppin upon base that's when the

Organized

Konfusion massacre begins with a blast

Never will an intruder approach cause they will never ever last cause the task is total termination

Poetry and the

Pharoahe starts as the revelation