Lyrics: Rape
Album: Internal Affairs
Artist: Pharoahe Monch
 

(woman screaming)

I’m obsessed with multiple nude photographs of the beat in my room on the wall
Pondering the verses, fondling my balls
Witness a nigga who will take rap and chase it
Through an occupied dimly lit staircases and rape it
Grab the drums by the waistline (scratches)
I snatch the kick, kick the snares, sodomize the bassline
Never waste time, i give the verse rabies
Cum on the chorus, tell the hook to swallow my babies
Maybe i might…switch! let the witch live
The original plan was to kill the bitch on the bridge
Ditch the body parts off somewhere near the cresendo
When my innuendos elapse…my nezuenno attacks
The instrumental elapses,
Perhaps that’s the only reason that i spared her life
You could solo my fuckin’ vocals and i still get trife
Slice the rhythm…disfigure the face of the groove
For any fader that flies or knobs or button that moves

Consider this: the loops are similar to clitorises exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of sin!
That doesn’t end til’ i stop fuckin’
A million emcees and they ain’t sayin’ nuttin’

Ain’t fuckin it right, they ain’t fuckin’ it right
They ain’t fuckin’ it right, they ain’t fuckin’ it right
They ain’t fuckin’ it like…me.

(scratches)

She had the nerve to take the case to court knowin’ i rape for sport
Took the stand cryin’ denying her whole invoving lying
Why would an ex-cop lie in a sex shop, fly linen down grinnin’
With my coat over my shoulder sittin’
Browsin’ pornography (uhh!), the stenographer smilin’ the whole time
While jotting verbal photography
Her eyes mahogany
I flashed to a photo in my mind of a body bludgeoned with slashed arteries
Pardon me, back to the case, slap in the face
Examinin’ the jury similar to crack in a safe
What happens to bass? it was anistic, i would inhale eighths
Sniff that, sat her ass all over my face and taste it
To hell wit’ 1980 remixes, fuck disco
Turned on the 3000, stuck my dick where the disc go
Yokonaz, ripped the sexy mpc 60, buyin’ a ticket to hell
Verbally dickin’ the 12 down, sound shitty
I knew she used to be gritty
Too many impotent emcees in this god forsaken city

Ain’t fuckin her right, ain’t fuckin’ her right
Ain’t fuckin’ her like…me.

Consider this: the loops are similar to clitorises exposed
On your miss is a hole, a vicious cycle of sin!
That doesn’t end til’ i stop fuckin’
A million emcees and they ain’t sayin’ nuttin’

Ain’t fuckin it right, they ain’t fuckin’ it right
They ain’t fuckin’ it right, they ain’t fuckin’ it right
They ain’t fuckin’ it right, they ain’t fuckin’ it right
They ain’t fuckin’ it like…me.