Behind Closed Doors Songtext
von Pharoahe Monch
Behind Closed Doors Songtext
Behind closed doors we go to war, all out
Hereos turn bitch and have to crawl out rich
to fall out snitch to switch to out of bounds shit
Flip, knock the wall out
Danger, niggaz is prone to clear the mall out
(Pharoahe Monch)
What is a scorpion? A animal that stings, shit
I′m like a bat with blood comin out the wings
You should never in your wildest dreams
shit on a nigga who resides in the borough of Queens
Strong wicked, in the Lex on the celly
Now you gettin fucked without the K-Y Jelly
How I made it you salivated over my calibrated
raps that validated my ghetto credibility
Still I be packin agilities unseen
F'realla my killin abilities unclean facilities
For more than military tactics obscene extreme confidential
My exterior serene with the potential of a killin machine
Ex-marine you drag queen, we tag team
Queens finest the alliance defiant we bag fiends
The FUCK you lookin in my face for nigga?
I mace mics and then lace the bass with figures
Chorus
(Pharoahe Monch)
Decapitate his ass, smack him, slap him in the back of the truck
Exasperate the life of his man and then pack it up
Cut off his hands and send his girl multiple finger sandwiches
If she manages to damages, put her in bandages
The amateurs - bananas is the unaninmous way we choose to live scandalous
Even with doorknobs you couldn′t handle this
Pharoahe's the host, the audience, and the motherfuckin panelist
My mic's equipped with laser sights so that the man′ll miss
Never you Devils, my level′s that of a high evolutionary rebel
Third rock from the sun to me is only a pebble
You comin with the corn shit that get forwarded
like bitches lickin clitoris in a porn flick
Hereos turn bitch and have to crawl out rich
to fall out snitch to switch to out of bounds shit
Flip, knock the wall out
Danger, niggaz is prone to clear the mall out
(Pharoahe Monch)
What is a scorpion? A animal that stings, shit
I′m like a bat with blood comin out the wings
You should never in your wildest dreams
shit on a nigga who resides in the borough of Queens
Strong wicked, in the Lex on the celly
Now you gettin fucked without the K-Y Jelly
How I made it you salivated over my calibrated
raps that validated my ghetto credibility
Still I be packin agilities unseen
F'realla my killin abilities unclean facilities
For more than military tactics obscene extreme confidential
My exterior serene with the potential of a killin machine
Ex-marine you drag queen, we tag team
Queens finest the alliance defiant we bag fiends
The FUCK you lookin in my face for nigga?
I mace mics and then lace the bass with figures
Chorus
(Pharoahe Monch)
Decapitate his ass, smack him, slap him in the back of the truck
Exasperate the life of his man and then pack it up
Cut off his hands and send his girl multiple finger sandwiches
If she manages to damages, put her in bandages
The amateurs - bananas is the unaninmous way we choose to live scandalous
Even with doorknobs you couldn′t handle this
Pharoahe's the host, the audience, and the motherfuckin panelist
My mic's equipped with laser sights so that the man′ll miss
Never you Devils, my level′s that of a high evolutionary rebel
Third rock from the sun to me is only a pebble
You comin with the corn shit that get forwarded
like bitches lickin clitoris in a porn flick
Writer(s): Troy Donald Jamerson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com