Intro

* ironically, this is the second-to-last song on the album [Prince Poetry] Lemon to a lime, lime to a lemon Confusin the men-tabolism in men and women with Lyrical re-citals that I'm givin, some consider Me an intellectual hip-hop transmitter [Pharoahe Monch] Lime to a lemon, a lemon to a lime I flow to many.. rhythms, to many rhythms I rhyme, off of the tempo, sim-pl-istic But consequently distorts the instru-mentality Causin an illusion Organized, but at the same time, Konfusing [Prince Poetry] Wack emceeeeeeeeeeeees, your time is up! Your rhymin suck (suck), on my stack Your climbin up but not to par, Prince, Poetry posesses The correct, literature showin you who the best is Be-hold the Prince rose to the special occasion Servin a bowl of Bran with the extra Raisin Organized Konfusion blastin you with a Missile, designed for a ripper, rippin up mics For crowds just like any-body Who rocks parties cause we carry Good-N-Plenty [Pharoahe Monch] Mmamamm-many mma-many many moons ago When I reminisce I used to flow to slow Beats, keepin the pace straight Capital M capital O capital N capital C.. Cap-i-tal H, relates to a terrific So never anticipate, on a specific style When I stiplificate, my hieroglyphic file, wait I'm the prolific child (these.. are..) Styles are (simplistic) we (rhymes) Like a lime (to a lemon) and a lemon (to a lime)