| Song | What It Is - Album Version (Explicit) |
| Artist | Pharoahe Monch |
| Album | Desire |
| As we move forward towards the new millennium | |
| We will no longer communicate with vocal inflections | |
| It will be necessary to communicate through telekinesis | |
| We will open your mind and concentrate harder | |
| Focus, focus, focus, focus, hey brother, what it is? | |
| Raps like | |
| Star Wars, only the stars die | |
| It’s no sequels, | |
| B3 cases, | |
| C3P0'sBefore | |
| Morpheus and | |
| Neo was killin’ 'em | |
| We was duckin' roulettes in the hood like | |
| Remo Williams | |
| Understand an underground bomb cipritate | |
| Get serious or die laughin’ like | |
| John Ritter | |
| Young Eastwood, just tryin' to eat good | |
| Breathe easy, relax, | |
| Mac like Fleetwood | |
| Keep snorin’, keep sleepin’, | |
| I'll keep tourin’ | |
| Come back, lay in the cut like | |
| NeosporinCame out of the fallopian blastin' | |
| Pharoahe hungrier than | |
| Ethiopians fastin' | |
| Flies all in my teeth, stomach stickin' out | |
| Niggas want dibs on the weed but ain't kickin' out | |
| See this is not ' | |
| American Idol' | |
| This is me tryin' to eat, human survival | |
| Spit at your favorite rapper, take his title | |
| Stick needles in his eyeballs 'til his signs are no longer vital | |
| This is ain't that, | |
| I'm not them | |
| These ain't those rhymes, | |
| I'm not him | |
| This is more like cocaine all night | |
| Shine like the new five halogen fog lights, no | |
| More like sunshine and one line in your mind | |
| To remind you of when you were nine | |
| Before you were bustin' cherries | |
| It wasn't necessary to grind them | |
| Now we all on our grizzly | |
| And you got the nerve to press frisbees, what it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| If I'm not home on the range, catch me at the range | |
| Practicin’ my aim, gat you in your brain, shame | |
| They thought | |
| I was backpacks, slept | |
| Didn’t know that he kept inside the knapsack | |
| Today's niggas do skate by hits | |
| Run in your crib on some ' | |
| Queer Eye for the | |
| Straight Guy' shit | |
| But not homosexuals, they master in gunplay | |
| Rearrange your furniture, fix your | |
| Feng ShuiThey be swearin' it's cute | |
| But a B up in the glove box, cutter in the boot | |
| With the sex appeal and no ice either | |
| To fight the bear arms, | |
| I'm not talkin' wifebeaters either | |
| When they see me they say that's that nigga | |
| My last name should be ' | |
| That's That | |
| Nigga'Sounds kinda nice, | |
| Pharoahe that's that | |
| Never catch me with them plastic cat fast niggas | |
| With the flow that's so influential | |
| Niggas ****ed up, they get no instrumentals now | |
| Next time you spittin' on mine | |
| Bet your bottom dollar you be spittin' over rhymes, what it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| What it is?… |
| As we move forward towards the new millennium | |
| We will no longer communicate with vocal inflections | |
| It will be necessary to communicate through telekinesis | |
| We will open your mind and concentrate harder | |
| Focus, focus, focus, focus, hey brother, what it is? | |
| Raps like | |
| Star Wars, only the stars die | |
| It' s no sequels, | |
| B3 cases, | |
| C3P0' sBefore | |
| Morpheus and | |
| Neo was killin' ' em | |
| We was duckin' roulettes in the hood like | |
| Remo Williams | |
| Understand an underground bomb cipritate | |
| Get serious or die laughin' like | |
| John Ritter | |
| Young Eastwood, just tryin' to eat good | |
| Breathe easy, relax, | |
| Mac like Fleetwood | |
| Keep snorin', keep sleepin', | |
| I' ll keep tourin' | |
| Come back, lay in the cut like | |
| NeosporinCame out of the fallopian blastin' | |
| Pharoahe hungrier than | |
| Ethiopians fastin' | |
| Flies all in my teeth, stomach stickin' out | |
| Niggas want dibs on the weed but ain' t kickin' out | |
| See this is not ' | |
| American Idol' | |
| This is me tryin' to eat, human survival | |
| Spit at your favorite rapper, take his title | |
| Stick needles in his eyeballs ' til his signs are no longer vital | |
| This is ain' t that, | |
| I' m not them | |
| These ain' t those rhymes, | |
| I' m not him | |
| This is more like cocaine all night | |
| Shine like the new five halogen fog lights, no | |
| More like sunshine and one line in your mind | |
| To remind you of when you were nine | |
| Before you were bustin' cherries | |
| It wasn' t necessary to grind them | |
| Now we all on our grizzly | |
| And you got the nerve to press frisbees, what it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| If I' m not home on the range, catch me at the range | |
| Practicin' my aim, gat you in your brain, shame | |
| They thought | |
| I was backpacks, slept | |
| Didn' t know that he kept inside the knapsack | |
| Today' s niggas do skate by hits | |
| Run in your crib on some ' | |
| Queer Eye for the | |
| Straight Guy' shit | |
| But not homosexuals, they master in gunplay | |
| Rearrange your furniture, fix your | |
| Feng ShuiThey be swearin' it' s cute | |
| But a B up in the glove box, cutter in the boot | |
| With the sex appeal and no ice either | |
| To fight the bear arms, | |
| I' m not talkin' wifebeaters either | |
| When they see me they say that' s that nigga | |
| My last name should be ' | |
| That' s That | |
| Nigga' Sounds kinda nice, | |
| Pharoahe that' s that | |
| Never catch me with them plastic cat fast niggas | |
| With the flow that' s so influential | |
| Niggas ed up, they get no instrumentals now | |
| Next time you spittin' on mine | |
| Bet your bottom dollar you be spittin' over rhymes, what it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| What it is? | |
| What it is? |