Cella Dwellas, Organized Konfusion - Ill Collabo (Dirty) lyrics

Phantasm the lyrical emperor, temptin y'all
With telepathic messages that
I'm sendin y'all
Minds I reach through scripts
I preach like Jim Jones in Guyana
Hurricanes through your brains like
Winds in Savannah
GA - Great Adventures without Six Flags
My heavenly melody causes mental zig-zags
Madness unfolds when I release
Scriptures and scrolls
Tall tales of goblins and trolls
Games of role playin and soul-slayin
Powered from the staff of Lord
Like the hammer to Thor
Clothed in only a robe, is a rogue
A thief who steals for the
Chief, the Tall Man, the High Priest
Imagine me and UG sipping from
The Sea of Galilee
To wash away vanity and keep our sanity


Humanity is unsafe
In this lost land beyond time and space

When I'm in a - cinematography state of mind
What I visualize will open the
Eyes of the blind
Pharoahe finds ways to make criminals
Who think crime pays, parlay and shrink
With one blink of the eye think of the guy
Who most personafies Hip-Hop
Shit, I'm synonymous with Jesus Christ
In other words, the words will last forever
Word, forever blessin the mic
With verbs you never heard
For any possible typical
Obstacle trap despicable
My topical raps remarkable
Perhaps sparkin a few
Pitiful Ac's to park in the back
And participating
(clears throat) poetical education

Aiyo, my layer floats on
Air atop the mountains a sip from the mystic
Fountain gives me powers
To run on top of flowers across the meadows
With incredible speed that
Bursts the speedometer
Conquer kilometers with three monsters
The size of the Titanic, gigantic
Run, panic, run frantic
Run for your life, run your ice
Run your watch
Run in spots and rock shit, apocalypse
No stoppin this, fuck poppin Cris'
Non-stoppin piss on tracks, wombats
Son, I'm feelin this
UG, Phan, Pharoahe and Po, we be the illest
What

Strictly catastrophic verses that cast curses
The mass purchase a blast
The last enter the surface
Four semen swimmin in
Careers that seems birthless
Not even achievin, you heathen
You're barely breathin
What is your purpose? What is
The sense of competin?
You're just a Ringling Brother who
Runs with a circus
And it's only peanuts you're eating
I sing an attack, bringin it back
Po, quick to flip it like
Hustlers slingin the crack
These daily scriptures project pictures
Yo, I play the low like spy
Cameras hidden inside light fixtures
I'm hot sex embedded inside the song
Mobb Deep from the back in that
Ass crack like a thong

Yo, it's the Phan to the tasm
(Prince to the Po)
Yeah, the U to the G (and the Monch Pharoahe)
The Ill Collabo will smack y'all
Lyrically attack ya'll
Underground sound, we comin at y'all

Aiyo, I clap, frrr, clip
(produces sound of something flipping through
The air) and back flip
Over walls, spot jewels
(produces sound of snatching) and snatch shit
(produces smacking sound) smack niggas inside
Of their Ac Vigors
Pass the mic to Phan' so he
Can smash these wack niggas

Lyrical lessons
Spiritual sessions and verbal blessings
No escape from yes, the great one has come
Towns people stand clear, Phan's near
Riding through the streets like Paul
Revere on a chariot's chair

Tommy guns, Big Pun and these niggas
Spit with vigor mamis love to move to
The straight Henny swigger
Inspect your mental Deck
Dig a hole in your neck
(produces a smacking sound) smack
Niggas like Pharoahe
Said and put em in check

Yeah, strictly menace
Sippin' Guinness and Henness'
When I'm finished scrimmage endless
Bend chicks from here to Venice
Vintage, singe kids with a sentence
Don't mention this, invention rips yo shhh
Like El Niño wreck shit hectic
My prick's long like Tec clips
I'm the specialist, stop wettin this
Yo yo yo yo, U-U-U-G-G-G e-ends with a echo
What