Organized Konfusion - Bring It On lyrics

Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!

My child i even be getting more graphic
Than a Neo-Geo thirty-two-bit
Computer chip be slipped between my lips
And then I’ll spit!
Spit it out, spit it out
Go ahead, spit it out
That itty-bitty style you upchuck
Better believe I butt-fuck emcees
From the rear, it appears you’re stuck-up!
It’s my terminology that strike the mind
And rips this beat apart
You know the many styles I choose
Will bruise crews from the start i flow
Awkwardly that’s awkwardly I flow
That’s to the rhythm
Incisions are made into the brain
And then I begin to give ‘em a lobotomy
Follow me
I’m shaping your brain like pottery
All over the track
Gimme the P-H, gimme the A-R, gimme
The O-A, gimme the H-E, pharoahe!
Crazy poison-tip arrows are hitting
You from all directions
You cannot dodge or manage
To dislodge them from
The point at which they are connecting
I am se-se-selecting a
Ne-ne-ne-ne-new style-style fo-fo-for
Pile-piles of emcees who try
To get bu-bu-buck-buckwild f-f-f-fuck that!
When I’m in a renovative state of mind
I’m innovative
Never been afraid of rocking a microphone
I’m prone to be eliminating
Cling when I sing a song of
Sixpence, if it makes sense, then sing along
Cling along to my nuts if you
Got guts then bring it on

Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!

There is no equivalent one
Consider me the epitome of rhymes
Rhythm of TECs execution is parallel to them
With an exception of the organisms
My telepathy cannot be dismantled
So stop sweating me advanced data
Now watch your greater updates
And raps get trampled
Fee-fi-fo steps of elevation show
That I’m ahead of your time
Specifically right behind a dope rhyme
Ripping shit up at primetime
I’m Optimus Primetime material
Imperial wizard of vocabularic havoc
I eat emcees like cereal
That’s soggy, milky skills like Mister Miyagi
When it’s foggy
I release globby spit's of remains of rappers
In a lobby as a hobby
I’ll rip your knit, shit gets thick quick
Get your crew before I do something gory to
Your quite futile styles
Miniature raps get waxed, simonized
Into the fifth dimension of your
Centrifugal, never typical stand attention
I’m mystical, rip shit ‘til the power blows
Those chose to compete
We delete ‘em observe defeat
Descending down from above to get
Cha, hit cha, split cha, ditch cha
Picture you victorious? I’m gory plus
Your shit’s mad boring bring it on

Bring it on, bring it on
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!
Bring it on, bring it on
Bring it on, motherfucker, bring it on!