Lyrics Soundman - Organized Konfusion
Yes,
yes,
yes,
yes,
yes
Yo,
Mr.
Soundman,
we
would
very
much
appreciate
it
(Yes
indeed)
If
you
add
a
tad
bit
more
mids
And
a
little
more
lows
to
the
mic
(Word
up)
I'm
on
mic
number
one,
Prince
is
on
mic
number
two
(Yes,
yes,
yes)
A
little
bit
more
but
right,
right,
right
there,
yeah
One
more,
c'mon,
uhh
(Recognize)
C'mon,
right,
yes,
yes,
right
here,
uhh,
c'mon,
down
Sorta
similar
to
the
way
I
remember
to
be
the
Wordsmith
Pharoahe,
God's
gift
to
vocabulary
My
personal
soliloquies
be
killin'
me
softly
Still
I
be
packin'
artillery,
y'all
feelin'
me
yet?
Props
don't
stop
here,
nigga
I
knock
MC's
out
of
a
six-sided
figure
My
strategies
be
tragedy
to
MC's
Who
receive
certificates
from
rap
academies
I'm
terrific
with
wordplay
(Wordplay)
Specific
with
verbs,
say
we
step
it
up
to
the
next
level
See
if
I
represent
God
Then
all
my
competition
is
exclusively
Lucifer
See
y'all
used
to
the
niggaz
who
would
say
devil
right?
(Right)
But
I
ain't
them,
they
ain't
me
(Nah,
uh,
huh)
With
some
bullshit
college-ass
rappin'
degree
But
let
me
show
you
how
we
do
it,
duh,
duh,
duh
Done
with
the
disco
fluid,
duh,
duh
But
if
it
ain't
loud
enough
We
tell
the
soundman,
turn
that
shit
up,
up,
up
C'mon,
c'mon
Yo,
Pharoahe,
hold
up,
hold
up,
check
it
Let
me
introduce
myself
I'm
Senor
El
Chocolate,
creme
de
la
creme,
a
la
cheddy
Prince
Poe,
God's
gift
to
vocabulary
Very
visual,
every
lyrical
slide
Is
spiritually
projected,
forever
inside
Never
to
hide
but
to
shine
like
diamonds
inside
mines
Let
that
ass
marinate
and
Poe
free
flows
over
basslines
I'm
takin'
elevatin'
to
next
Plateaus,
rippin'
shows
with
this
cosmic
sex
Love
on
CD's
and
cassettes
and
DAT's
(Now
all
rise)
Now
who
masters
the
Funk
when
it's
time
to
Flex?
(Organized)
From
the
Southside,
spar
chump
MC's
Thinkin'
they
comp,
but
soon
to
get
smoked
like
trees
I
eat
MC's
of
all
kinds,
spit
out
the
rhyme
Regurgitate
their
mindstate
'cause
I
don't
eat
swine
Set
it
straight,
online,
internet
programmed
to
climb
You
might
catch
me
in
The
Grind
Straight
bumpin'
a
dime
Now
let
me
tell
you
how
we
do
it
(Yeah,
yeah)
With
that
old
disco
fluid
(Uh,
huh)
And
if
it
ain't
loud
enough
Tell
the
soundman
to
turn
that
shit
up
Up,
up,
up
(Up,
up)
If
it,
uh,
check
it
(Turn
me
up
now,
ooh,
ohh,
yeah)
(Ooh,
ooh,
ooh,
ohh,
ooh,
ooh)
Tinted
V8,
buck
and
a
half
on
the
dash
All
weather
Pirellis,
the
exterior
color
is
cash
Black
Italian
leather,
Nakamichi
system
to
blast
Full
metal
to
the
pedal
when
we
Organize
on
that
ass
I
last,
amongst
the
mass,
gettin'
the
cash
But
in
the
stash
fast
before
the
stock
market
crash
Splash,
five
quarts
of
straight
water
fortified
First
place
to
get
this
partyin'
on
In
any
club
or
on
the
corner
in
the
box
with
pops
In
barbershops,
ladies
got
with
it
in
hoopties,
some
in
drop-tops
Look
at
love-love,
fuckin'
with
this
top-notch
Boombastic,
ghetto
dope
now,
fly
gymnastics
of
passion
With
verbal
toxic,
rock
shit
(Daily,
mmm)
The
soul
controller
up
in
the
cockpit
Lock
shit
with
my
robotic
optic
You
ain't
fuckin'
with
this
propher,
who's
too
tropic?
Stop
it
(Hey,
Mr.
Soundman
Can
you
boost
me,
juice
me
up?)
I'm
sendin'
them
in
yo
face,
spinnin'
them
quick
wit'
Synonym
blendin'
them
in
wit',
homynyms
entered
in
And
by
embalmin'
them
wit',
shit,
whenever
I
spit
No
need
for
me
to
go,
get
old
hit,
records
to
go
gold
wit'
Yo
shit
with
absolutely
no
innovation
whatsoever
You
and
all
your
mens
not
clever
Y'all
need
to
be
told
that
shit
You
ain't
bold
black
plans
of
promotional
schemes
And
scams
are
so
wack
Tracks
are
trash
to
me,
nigga
actually
Your
platinum
plaque
should
even
go
back
to
the
factory
People
wanna
be
like
Michael
and
when
Recyclin'
when
the
fans
wanna
hear
Fresh
Material
From
imperial
rap
pros
who
Organize
Gettin'
very
intolerant
at
rap
shows
like
lactose
In
fact
those
niggaz
that
act
up
get
smacked
Backwards
for
bein'
so
anti-climac,
tic
Watch
any
mack
get,
put
on
his
back
with
Lyrical
tactics
utilized
without
practice
This
is
how
we
do
it,
duh,
duh,
duh
(Yeah,
yeah)
Done
with
the
disco
fluid,
duh,
duh
(Uh,
huh)
But
if
it
ain't
loud
enough
Say
if
it
ain't
loud
enough
Say
if
it
ain't
loud
enough
We
tell
the
soundman
turn
that
motherfuckin'
volume
up,
nigga
![Organized Konfusion - The Equinox](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/s/a/2/y/57lt_7y2as.jpg)
1 Interior Assasin’s Car 3:35 A.M. (skit)
2 They Don't Want It
3 March 21 3:45 A.M. (skit)
4 9xs Out Of 10
5 Questions
6 Soundman
7 Move
8 Confrontations
9 Life & Malice Exterior Club Nite (skit)
10 Numbers
11 Shugah Shorty
12 Interior Car Nite (skit)
13 Invetro
14 Chuck Cheese
15 Interior Marisols Apartment (skit)
16 Sin
17 Hate
18 March 21 - 3:47 A.M. (skit)
19 Somehow, Someway
20 Epilogue
21 United As One (Medicine Man)
Attention! Feel free to leave feedback.