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Paul Arnold - Pharcyde lyrics

[Imani]
"None of that's true", we do it not you
That' why I got you, stuck on to my style like glue
The crew, definitely is back again
But I'm back to win, so just tell a friend
That I'm still twisting and bending
Minds and rhymes until the very end
With the rhymes, and the loops
Stomping out wack troops in my big black boots
Collecting respect and the loot!
From the way I grab the microphone and execute
"Iahp's" think I'm cute

[Bootie Brown]
(SAY WHAT?)
Yo man, I pay them no attention I stay deep into the cut
Cause I leave the tricks alone cause the name is not David
Copper-Filled pockets, never made it don't hate it
So let it be stated
n***as couldn't fade it with an edit
And Xerox M.C.'s are pathetic
They tryin' to duplicate but they're comin' out synthetic
The name is Bootie Brown and phony M.C.'s forget it

[Hook x2]
Imani Bootie Brown Fatlip and Slimkid Tre
Imani Bootie Brown Fatlip and Slimkid Tre
Imani Bootie Brown Fatlip and Slimkid Tre
We do it this way
We do it this way

[Fatlip]
I step toward the MIC grinnin'
The lyrical imperial award winnin'
Rhymes like a balloon that got a pin in it
[Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/paul-arnold/-/pharcyde.html]
Because my sh** be poppin'
Like gin and juice I seduce these iahps to get loose when I'm droppin'
These rhymes on drums like my n***a Def Jef
My style is more unknown than what happens after d**h
I come fresh like your breath after your brush
Wack MC's like that orange soda get crushed

[Slim Kid3]
Well it's apparent, that many are so transparent
You can't believe ya eyes when ya staring
It's ghostly and mostly the wise who
Yeah, they just run this game before ya eyes to
To tell you lies in gold glitter
For many moons I've been a go getter
Took miles of manure from the purest bullsh**ters
Now them muthaf**as ain't wit us to get us
M-walk shake the cut through their neutro-transmitter

[Hook x2]

[Imani]
You must respect me cause I come directly from my internal
While my eternal infernos steadily towering
And over-powering, all sour sounding
Wishing, wishy-washy competition
Definitely wack and lackin' any stable ammunition
Change ya mission, men and listen
My way of salutations get no validations
Just rejections and ejections outta my Hitachi

[Slim Kid3]
Come on and taste the real, step on inside
And confide in the feel I reside
By steel waters just a gear on the wheel
No fear on the steel just a
Son of Jiva who won't leave my field

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