[{"id":265014,"name":"The Matrix (feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price, & DJ Premier)","trackName":"The Matrix (feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price, & DJ Premier)","artistName":"Black Milk","albumName":"Tronic","duration":227.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Black Milk]\nFor every pair of lines I spit\nI leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\nIf you not parallel to my paragraphs\nApparently if they say I'm better than you\nThere's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\nMovin' forward ahead of you\nLike you ridin' a bike\nAnd you can't move till' the pedals do\nNobody teams compare\nBold niggas fallin' so fast\nThey need to pull the strings on a parachute\nSo stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\nWe can start with the letter U, S\nFood for thought, thought for fools\nWhere niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\nThe hood is out for dollar signs\nWe trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\nTry to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\nAudiences applause for the curtain calls\nAll the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\nYou's a let down like convertible roofs, I\nSee the mic and murder the booth, nah\nKillin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nFour finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\nYou couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\nCouldn't string together some shows\nIf hoes would sing together a song for you\nAnd then you came when the doughs good\nI'm Billy Joel, I really soul\nMight dust off some red vinyl that's really old\nOr chop drums\nOn a roll while I'm shotgun\nWith a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\nI bomb crews, I'm hot\nI'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\nThe Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\nA pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\nLike pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\nI'm tight\nPaintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\nGet more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\nWhile y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nIt goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\nSmoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\nNiggas rap about daffodils\nTree hugger\nThat's when the gat clap ya grill\nP mug ya\nMy defense is offense\nOffense is nonsense\nDrunk with a kufi on\nPraying to Allah bent\nClark Kent with the glasses off\nPower fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\nCrip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\nLatin King tomorrow keep it caliente\nI send Spanish niggas to visit your label\nRep for mi gente and take your digital cable\nThe God hard body\nY'all ain't physically able\nTo test me\nI'm Jet Li\nThis whipping is fatal\nBlast skets\nY'all niggas is past sex\nActing like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Matrix (feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price, & DJ Premier)\n  artist: Black Milk\n  album: Tronic\n  duration_ms: 227000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Black Milk]\n  For every pair of lines I spit\n  I leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\n  If you not parallel to my paragraphs\n  Apparently if they say I'm better than you\n  There's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\n  Movin' forward ahead of you\n  Like you ridin' a bike\n  And you can't move till' the pedals do\n  Nobody teams compare\n  Bold niggas fallin' so fast\n  They need to pull the strings on a parachute\n  So stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\n  We can start with the letter U, S\n  Food for thought, thought for fools\n  Where niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\n  The hood is out for dollar signs\n  We trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\n  Try to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\n  Audiences applause for the curtain calls\n  All the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\n  You's a let down like convertible roofs, I\n  See the mic and murder the booth, nah\n  Killin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  Four finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\n  You couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\n  Couldn't string together some shows\n  If hoes would sing together a song for you\n  And then you came when the doughs good\n  I'm Billy Joel, I really soul\n  Might dust off some red vinyl that's really old\n  Or chop drums\n  On a roll while I'm shotgun\n  With a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\n  I bomb crews, I'm hot\n  I'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\n  The Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\n  A pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\n  Like pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\n  I'm tight\n  Paintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\n  Get more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\n  While y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  It goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\n  Smoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\n  Niggas rap about daffodils\n  Tree hugger\n  That's when the gat clap ya grill\n  P mug ya\n  My defense is offense\n  Offense is nonsense\n  Drunk with a kufi on\n  Praying to Allah bent\n  Clark Kent with the glasses off\n  Power fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\n  Crip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\n  Latin King tomorrow keep it caliente\n  I send Spanish niggas to visit your label\n  Rep for mi gente and take your digital cable\n  The God hard body\n  Y'all ain't physically able\n  To test me\n  I'm Jet Li\n  This whipping is fatal\n  Blast skets\n  Y'all niggas is past sex\n  Acting like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n"},{"id":16434810,"name":"The Matrix (feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price & DJ Premier)","trackName":"The Matrix (feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price & DJ Premier)","artistName":"Black Milk","albumName":"3:47","duration":227.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Black Milk]\nFor every pair of lines I spit\nI leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\nIf you not parallel to my paragraphs\nApparently if they say I'm better than you\nThere's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\nMovin' forward ahead of you\nLike you ridin' a bike\nAnd you can't move till' the pedals do\nNobody teams compare\nBold niggas fallin' so fast\nThey need to pull the strings on a parachute\nSo stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\nWe can start with the letter U, S\nFood for thought, thought for fools\nWhere niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\nThe hood is out for dollar signs\nWe trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\nTry to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\nAudiences applause for the curtain calls\nAll the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\nYou's a let down like convertible roofs, I\nSee the mic and murder the booth, nah\nKillin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nFour finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\nYou couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\nCouldn't string together some shows\nIf hoes would sing together a song for you\nAnd then you came when the doughs good\nI'm Billy Joel, I really soul\nMight dust off some red vinyl that's really old\nOr chop drums\nOn a roll while I'm shotgun\nWith a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\nI bomb crews, I'm hot\nI'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\nThe Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\nA pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\nLike pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\nI'm tight\nPaintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\nGet more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\nWhile y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nIt goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\nSmoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\nNiggas rap about daffodils\nTree hugger\nThat's when the gat clap ya grill\nP mug ya\nMy defense is offense\nOffense is nonsense\nDrunk with a kufi on\nPraying to Allah bent\nClark Kent with the glasses off\nPower fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\nCrip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\nLatin King tomorrow keep it caliente\nI send Spanish niggas to visit your label\nRep for mi gente and take your digital cable\nThe God hard body\nY'all ain't physically able\nTo test me\nI'm Jet Li\nThis whipping is fatal\nBlast skets\nY'all niggas is past sex\nActing like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Matrix (feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price & DJ Premier)\n  artist: Black Milk\n  album: 3:47\n  duration_ms: 227000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Black Milk]\n  For every pair of lines I spit\n  I leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\n  If you not parallel to my paragraphs\n  Apparently if they say I'm better than you\n  There's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\n  Movin' forward ahead of you\n  Like you ridin' a bike\n  And you can't move till' the pedals do\n  Nobody teams compare\n  Bold niggas fallin' so fast\n  They need to pull the strings on a parachute\n  So stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\n  We can start with the letter U, S\n  Food for thought, thought for fools\n  Where niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\n  The hood is out for dollar signs\n  We trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\n  Try to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\n  Audiences applause for the curtain calls\n  All the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\n  You's a let down like convertible roofs, I\n  See the mic and murder the booth, nah\n  Killin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  Four finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\n  You couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\n  Couldn't string together some shows\n  If hoes would sing together a song for you\n  And then you came when the doughs good\n  I'm Billy Joel, I really soul\n  Might dust off some red vinyl that's really old\n  Or chop drums\n  On a roll while I'm shotgun\n  With a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\n  I bomb crews, I'm hot\n  I'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\n  The Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\n  A pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\n  Like pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\n  I'm tight\n  Paintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\n  Get more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\n  While y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  It goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\n  Smoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\n  Niggas rap about daffodils\n  Tree hugger\n  That's when the gat clap ya grill\n  P mug ya\n  My defense is offense\n  Offense is nonsense\n  Drunk with a kufi on\n  Praying to Allah bent\n  Clark Kent with the glasses off\n  Power fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\n  Crip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\n  Latin King tomorrow keep it caliente\n  I send Spanish niggas to visit your label\n  Rep for mi gente and take your digital cable\n  The God hard body\n  Y'all ain't physically able\n  To test me\n  I'm Jet Li\n  This whipping is fatal\n  Blast skets\n  Y'all niggas is past sex\n  Acting like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n"},{"id":22643514,"name":"The Matrix feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price and DJ Premier","trackName":"The Matrix feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price and DJ Premier","artistName":"Black Milk","albumName":"Tronic","duration":226.8,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Black Milk]\nFor every pair of lines I spit\nI leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\nIf you not parallel to my paragraphs\nApparently if they say I'm better than you\nThere's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\nMovin' forward ahead of you\nLike you ridin' a bike\nAnd you can't move till' the pedals do\nNobody teams compare\nBold niggas fallin' so fast\nThey need to pull the strings on a parachute\nSo stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\nWe can start with the letter U, S\nFood for thought, thought for fools\nWhere niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\nThe hood is out for dollar signs\nWe trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\nTry to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\nAudiences applause for the curtain calls\nAll the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\nYou's a let down like convertible roofs, I\nSee the mic and murder the booth, nah\nKillin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nFour finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\nYou couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\nCouldn't string together some shows\nIf hoes would sing together a song for you\nAnd then you came when the doughs good\nI'm Billy Joel, I really soul\nMight dust off some red vinyl that's really old\nOr chop drums\nOn a roll while I'm shotgun\nWith a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\nI bomb crews, I'm hot\nI'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\nThe Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\nA pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\nLike pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\nI'm tight\nPaintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\nGet more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\nWhile y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nIt goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\nSmoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\nNiggas rap about daffodils\nTree hugger\nThat's when the gat clap ya grill\nP mug ya\nMy defense is offense\nOffense is nonsense\nDrunk with a kufi on\nPraying to Allah bent\nClark Kent with the glasses off\nPower fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\nCrip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\nLatin King tomorrow keep it caliente\nI send Spanish niggas to visit your label\nRep for mi gente and take your digital cable\nThe God hard body\nY'all ain't physically able\nTo test me\nI'm Jet Li\nThis whipping is fatal\nBlast skets\nY'all niggas is past sex\nActing like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Matrix feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price and DJ Premier\n  artist: Black Milk\n  album: Tronic\n  duration_ms: 226800\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Black Milk]\n  For every pair of lines I spit\n  I leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\n  If you not parallel to my paragraphs\n  Apparently if they say I'm better than you\n  There's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\n  Movin' forward ahead of you\n  Like you ridin' a bike\n  And you can't move till' the pedals do\n  Nobody teams compare\n  Bold niggas fallin' so fast\n  They need to pull the strings on a parachute\n  So stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\n  We can start with the letter U, S\n  Food for thought, thought for fools\n  Where niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\n  The hood is out for dollar signs\n  We trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\n  Try to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\n  Audiences applause for the curtain calls\n  All the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\n  You's a let down like convertible roofs, I\n  See the mic and murder the booth, nah\n  Killin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  Four finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\n  You couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\n  Couldn't string together some shows\n  If hoes would sing together a song for you\n  And then you came when the doughs good\n  I'm Billy Joel, I really soul\n  Might dust off some red vinyl that's really old\n  Or chop drums\n  On a roll while I'm shotgun\n  With a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\n  I bomb crews, I'm hot\n  I'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\n  The Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\n  A pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\n  Like pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\n  I'm tight\n  Paintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\n  Get more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\n  While y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  It goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\n  Smoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\n  Niggas rap about daffodils\n  Tree hugger\n  That's when the gat clap ya grill\n  P mug ya\n  My defense is offense\n  Offense is nonsense\n  Drunk with a kufi on\n  Praying to Allah bent\n  Clark Kent with the glasses off\n  Power fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\n  Crip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\n  Latin King tomorrow keep it caliente\n  I send Spanish niggas to visit your label\n  Rep for mi gente and take your digital cable\n  The God hard body\n  Y'all ain't physically able\n  To test me\n  I'm Jet Li\n  This whipping is fatal\n  Blast skets\n  Y'all niggas is past sex\n  Acting like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n"},{"id":368523,"name":"The Matrix","trackName":"The Matrix","artistName":"Black Milk, Sean Price, Pharoahe Monch & DJ Premier","albumName":"Tronic","duration":227.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[** feat. Pharoahe Monch and Sean Price:]\n[** Scratches: DJ Premier:]\n[** Contains sample of 'Invisible Limits' performed by Tangerine Dream:]\n[** Contains sample of 'Excuse Me Miss' performed by Jay-Z:]\n[** Contains sample of 'Real Hip Hop' performed by Das Efx:]\n[** Contains sample of 'Inspiration' performed by Da Ranjahz:]\n[Black Milk:]\nFor every pair of lines I spit*\nI leave you paralyzed and bend so clear a path\nIf you not parallel to my paragraphs\nApparently if they say I'm better than you\nThere's no reason for me to put myself on the petistule\nMovin' forward ahead of you\nLike you ridin' a bike\nAnd you can't move till' the pedals do\nNobody teams compare\nBold niggas fallin' so fast\nThey need to pull the strings on a parachute\nSo stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\nWe can start with the letter U, S\nFood for thought, thought for fools\nWhere niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\nThe hood is out for dollar signs\nWe trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devils pie\nTry to make it my downfall but see all I know is to tour\nAudiences applause for the working cause\nAll the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\nYou the let down like convertible roofs, I\nSee the mic and murder the booth, nah\nKillin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof ha\n[Chorus: {scratched}]\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\" - Jay-Z\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\" - Special Ed\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\" - Das EFX\n[Pharaohe Monch:]\nFour finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flows good\nYou couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\nCouldn't string together some shows\nIf hoes would sing together a song for you\nAnd then you came when the doughs good\nI'm Billy Joel, I really sold\nMight dust off some red vinyl that's really old\nOr chop drums\nOn a roll while I'm shotgun\nWith a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\nI bomb crew, I'm hot\nI'm cool with Top Gun, but not\nThat fond to Tom Cruise, I got\nA pool to lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\nLike pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\nI'm tight\nPaintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\nGet more, skull than Skelator or rip fuel\nWhile y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n[Repeat Chorus:]\n[Sean Price:]\nIt goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\nSmoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\nNiggas rap about daffodils\nTree hugger\nThat's when the gat clap ya grill\nP mug ya\nMy defense is offense\nOffense is nonsense\nDrunk with a cufi on\nBring it to Allah bent\nClark Kent with the glasses off\nPower fuckin' Loise Lane cause her ass is soft\nCrip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\nLatin King tomorrow keep it caliente\nI send Spanish niggas to visit your label\n? Ref en biente? and take your digital cable\nThe God hard body\nY'all ain't physically able\nTo test me\nI'm Jet Li\nThis whipping is fatal\nBlast sketch\nY'all niggas is past sex\nActing like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n[Repeat Chorus:]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Matrix\n  artist: Black Milk, Sean Price, Pharoahe Monch & DJ Premier\n  album: Tronic\n  duration_ms: 227000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [** feat. Pharoahe Monch and Sean Price:]\n  [** Scratches: DJ Premier:]\n  [** Contains sample of 'Invisible Limits' performed by Tangerine Dream:]\n  [** Contains sample of 'Excuse Me Miss' performed by Jay-Z:]\n  [** Contains sample of 'Real Hip Hop' performed by Das Efx:]\n  [** Contains sample of 'Inspiration' performed by Da Ranjahz:]\n  [Black Milk:]\n  For every pair of lines I spit*\n  I leave you paralyzed and bend so clear a path\n  If you not parallel to my paragraphs\n  Apparently if they say I'm better than you\n  There's no reason for me to put myself on the petistule\n  Movin' forward ahead of you\n  Like you ridin' a bike\n  And you can't move till' the pedals do\n  Nobody teams compare\n  Bold niggas fallin' so fast\n  They need to pull the strings on a parachute\n  So stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\n  We can start with the letter U, S\n  Food for thought, thought for fools\n  Where niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\n  The hood is out for dollar signs\n  We trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devils pie\n  Try to make it my downfall but see all I know is to tour\n  Audiences applause for the working cause\n  All the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\n  You the let down like convertible roofs, I\n  See the mic and murder the booth, nah\n  Killin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof ha\n  [Chorus: {scratched}]\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\" - Jay-Z\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\" - Special Ed\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\" - Das EFX\n  [Pharaohe Monch:]\n  Four finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flows good\n  You couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\n  Couldn't string together some shows\n  If hoes would sing together a song for you\n  And then you came when the doughs good\n  I'm Billy Joel, I really sold\n  Might dust off some red vinyl that's really old\n  Or chop drums\n  On a roll while I'm shotgun\n  With a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\n  I bomb crew, I'm hot\n  I'm cool with Top Gun, but not\n  That fond to Tom Cruise, I got\n  A pool to lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\n  Like pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\n  I'm tight\n  Paintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\n  Get more, skull than Skelator or rip fuel\n  While y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n  [Repeat Chorus:]\n  [Sean Price:]\n  It goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\n  Smoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\n  Niggas rap about daffodils\n  Tree hugger\n  That's when the gat clap ya grill\n  P mug ya\n  My defense is offense\n  Offense is nonsense\n  Drunk with a cufi on\n  Bring it to Allah bent\n  Clark Kent with the glasses off\n  Power fuckin' Loise Lane cause her ass is soft\n  Crip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\n  Latin King tomorrow keep it caliente\n  I send Spanish niggas to visit your label\n  ? Ref en biente? and take your digital cable\n  The God hard body\n  Y'all ain't physically able\n  To test me\n  I'm Jet Li\n  This whipping is fatal\n  Blast sketch\n  Y'all niggas is past sex\n  Acting like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n  [Repeat Chorus:]\n"},{"id":11831532,"name":"The Matrix","trackName":"The Matrix","artistName":"Black Milk feat. Sean Price, Pharoahe Monch & DJ Premier","albumName":"Tronic","duration":226.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Black Milk]\nFor every pair of lines I spit\nI leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\nIf you not parallel to my paragraphs\nApparently if they say I'm better than you\nThere's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\nMovin' forward ahead of you\nLike you ridin' a bike\nAnd you can't move till' the pedals do\nNobody teams compare\nBold niggas fallin' so fast\nThey need to pull the strings on a parachute\nSo stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\nWe can start with the letter U, S\nFood for thought, thought for fools\nWhere niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\nThe hood is out for dollar signs\nWe trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\nTry to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\nAudiences applause for the curtain calls\nAll the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\nYou's a let down like convertible roofs, I\nSee the mic and murder the booth, nah\nKillin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nFour finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\nYou couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\nCouldn't string together some shows\nIf hoes would sing together a song for you\nAnd then you came when the doughs good\nI'm Billy Joel, I really soul\nMight dust off some red vinyl that's really old\nOr chop drums\nOn a roll while I'm shotgun\nWith a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\nI bomb crews, I'm hot\nI'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\nThe Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\nA pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\nLike pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\nI'm tight\nPaintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\nGet more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\nWhile y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nIt goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\nSmoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\nNiggas rap about daffodils\nTree hugger\nThat's when the gat clap ya grill\nP mug ya\nMy defense is offense\nOffense is nonsense\nDrunk with a kufi on\nPraying to Allah bent\nClark Kent with the glasses off\nPower fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\nCrip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\nLatin King tomorrow keep it caliente\nI send Spanish niggas to visit your label\nRep for mi gente and take your digital cable\nThe God hard body\nY'all ain't physically able\nTo test me\nI'm Jet Li\nThis whipping is fatal\nBlast skets\nY'all niggas is past sex\nActing like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Matrix\n  artist: Black Milk feat. Sean Price, Pharoahe Monch & DJ Premier\n  album: Tronic\n  duration_ms: 226000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Black Milk]\n  For every pair of lines I spit\n  I leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\n  If you not parallel to my paragraphs\n  Apparently if they say I'm better than you\n  There's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\n  Movin' forward ahead of you\n  Like you ridin' a bike\n  And you can't move till' the pedals do\n  Nobody teams compare\n  Bold niggas fallin' so fast\n  They need to pull the strings on a parachute\n  So stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\n  We can start with the letter U, S\n  Food for thought, thought for fools\n  Where niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\n  The hood is out for dollar signs\n  We trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\n  Try to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\n  Audiences applause for the curtain calls\n  All the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\n  You's a let down like convertible roofs, I\n  See the mic and murder the booth, nah\n  Killin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  Four finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\n  You couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\n  Couldn't string together some shows\n  If hoes would sing together a song for you\n  And then you came when the doughs good\n  I'm Billy Joel, I really soul\n  Might dust off some red vinyl that's really old\n  Or chop drums\n  On a roll while I'm shotgun\n  With a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\n  I bomb crews, I'm hot\n  I'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\n  The Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\n  A pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\n  Like pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\n  I'm tight\n  Paintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\n  Get more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\n  While y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  It goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\n  Smoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\n  Niggas rap about daffodils\n  Tree hugger\n  That's when the gat clap ya grill\n  P mug ya\n  My defense is offense\n  Offense is nonsense\n  Drunk with a kufi on\n  Praying to Allah bent\n  Clark Kent with the glasses off\n  Power fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\n  Crip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\n  Latin King tomorrow keep it caliente\n  I send Spanish niggas to visit your label\n  Rep for mi gente and take your digital cable\n  The God hard body\n  Y'all ain't physically able\n  To test me\n  I'm Jet Li\n  This whipping is fatal\n  Blast skets\n  Y'all niggas is past sex\n  Acting like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n"},{"id":11952576,"name":"The Matrix","trackName":"The Matrix","artistName":"Black Milk feat. Pharoahe Monch, Price, Sean & Premier, DJ","albumName":"Tronic","duration":227.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Black Milk]\nFor every pair of lines I spit\nI leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\nIf you not parallel to my paragraphs\nApparently if they say I'm better than you\nThere's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\nMovin' forward ahead of you\nLike you ridin' a bike\nAnd you can't move till' the pedals do\nNobody teams compare\nBold niggas fallin' so fast\nThey need to pull the strings on a parachute\nSo stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\nWe can start with the letter U, S\nFood for thought, thought for fools\nWhere niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\nThe hood is out for dollar signs\nWe trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\nTry to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\nAudiences applause for the curtain calls\nAll the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\nYou's a let down like convertible roofs, I\nSee the mic and murder the booth, nah\nKillin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nFour finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\nYou couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\nCouldn't string together some shows\nIf hoes would sing together a song for you\nAnd then you came when the doughs good\nI'm Billy Joel, I really soul\nMight dust off some red vinyl that's really old\nOr chop drums\nOn a roll while I'm shotgun\nWith a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\nI bomb crews, I'm hot\nI'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\nThe Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\nA pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\nLike pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\nI'm tight\nPaintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\nGet more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\nWhile y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nIt goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\nSmoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\nNiggas rap about daffodils\nTree hugger\nThat's when the gat clap ya grill\nP mug ya\nMy defense is offense\nOffense is nonsense\nDrunk with a kufi on\nPraying to Allah bent\nClark Kent with the glasses off\nPower fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\nCrip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\nLatin King tomorrow keep it caliente\nI send Spanish niggas to visit your label\nRep for mi gente and take your digital cable\nThe God hard body\nY'all ain't physically able\nTo test me\nI'm Jet Li\nThis whipping is fatal\nBlast skets\nY'all niggas is past sex\nActing like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Matrix\n  artist: Black Milk feat. Pharoahe Monch, Price, Sean & Premier, DJ\n  album: Tronic\n  duration_ms: 227000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Black Milk]\n  For every pair of lines I spit\n  I leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\n  If you not parallel to my paragraphs\n  Apparently if they say I'm better than you\n  There's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\n  Movin' forward ahead of you\n  Like you ridin' a bike\n  And you can't move till' the pedals do\n  Nobody teams compare\n  Bold niggas fallin' so fast\n  They need to pull the strings on a parachute\n  So stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\n  We can start with the letter U, S\n  Food for thought, thought for fools\n  Where niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\n  The hood is out for dollar signs\n  We trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\n  Try to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\n  Audiences applause for the curtain calls\n  All the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\n  You's a let down like convertible roofs, I\n  See the mic and murder the booth, nah\n  Killin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  Four finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\n  You couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\n  Couldn't string together some shows\n  If hoes would sing together a song for you\n  And then you came when the doughs good\n  I'm Billy Joel, I really soul\n  Might dust off some red vinyl that's really old\n  Or chop drums\n  On a roll while I'm shotgun\n  With a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\n  I bomb crews, I'm hot\n  I'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\n  The Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\n  A pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\n  Like pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\n  I'm tight\n  Paintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\n  Get more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\n  While y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  It goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\n  Smoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\n  Niggas rap about daffodils\n  Tree hugger\n  That's when the gat clap ya grill\n  P mug ya\n  My defense is offense\n  Offense is nonsense\n  Drunk with a kufi on\n  Praying to Allah bent\n  Clark Kent with the glasses off\n  Power fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\n  Crip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\n  Latin King tomorrow keep it caliente\n  I send Spanish niggas to visit your label\n  Rep for mi gente and take your digital cable\n  The God hard body\n  Y'all ain't physically able\n  To test me\n  I'm Jet Li\n  This whipping is fatal\n  Blast skets\n  Y'all niggas is past sex\n  Acting like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n"},{"id":9377595,"name":"The Matrix","trackName":"The Matrix","artistName":"Black Milk feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price & DJ Premier","albumName":"Tronic","duration":226.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Black Milk]\nFor every pair of lines I spit\nI leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\nIf you not parallel to my paragraphs\nApparently if they say I'm better than you\nThere's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\nMovin' forward ahead of you\nLike you ridin' a bike\nAnd you can't move till' the pedals do\nNobody teams compare\nBold niggas fallin' so fast\nThey need to pull the strings on a parachute\nSo stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\nWe can start with the letter U, S\nFood for thought, thought for fools\nWhere niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\nThe hood is out for dollar signs\nWe trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\nTry to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\nAudiences applause for the curtain calls\nAll the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\nYou's a let down like convertible roofs, I\nSee the mic and murder the booth, nah\nKillin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nFour finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\nYou couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\nCouldn't string together some shows\nIf hoes would sing together a song for you\nAnd then you came when the doughs good\nI'm Billy Joel, I really soul\nMight dust off some red vinyl that's really old\nOr chop drums\nOn a roll while I'm shotgun\nWith a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\nI bomb crews, I'm hot\nI'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\nThe Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\nA pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\nLike pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\nI'm tight\nPaintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\nGet more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\nWhile y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nIt goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\nSmoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\nNiggas rap about daffodils\nTree hugger\nThat's when the gat clap ya grill\nP mug ya\nMy defense is offense\nOffense is nonsense\nDrunk with a kufi on\nPraying to Allah bent\nClark Kent with the glasses off\nPower fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\nCrip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\nLatin King tomorrow keep it caliente\nI send Spanish niggas to visit your label\nRep for mi gente and take your digital cable\nThe God hard body\nY'all ain't physically able\nTo test me\nI'm Jet Li\nThis whipping is fatal\nBlast skets\nY'all niggas is past sex\nActing like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Matrix\n  artist: Black Milk feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price & DJ Premier\n  album: Tronic\n  duration_ms: 226000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Black Milk]\n  For every pair of lines I spit\n  I leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\n  If you not parallel to my paragraphs\n  Apparently if they say I'm better than you\n  There's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\n  Movin' forward ahead of you\n  Like you ridin' a bike\n  And you can't move till' the pedals do\n  Nobody teams compare\n  Bold niggas fallin' so fast\n  They need to pull the strings on a parachute\n  So stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\n  We can start with the letter U, S\n  Food for thought, thought for fools\n  Where niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\n  The hood is out for dollar signs\n  We trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\n  Try to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\n  Audiences applause for the curtain calls\n  All the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\n  You's a let down like convertible roofs, I\n  See the mic and murder the booth, nah\n  Killin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  Four finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\n  You couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\n  Couldn't string together some shows\n  If hoes would sing together a song for you\n  And then you came when the doughs good\n  I'm Billy Joel, I really soul\n  Might dust off some red vinyl that's really old\n  Or chop drums\n  On a roll while I'm shotgun\n  With a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\n  I bomb crews, I'm hot\n  I'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\n  The Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\n  A pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\n  Like pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\n  I'm tight\n  Paintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\n  Get more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\n  While y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  It goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\n  Smoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\n  Niggas rap about daffodils\n  Tree hugger\n  That's when the gat clap ya grill\n  P mug ya\n  My defense is offense\n  Offense is nonsense\n  Drunk with a kufi on\n  Praying to Allah bent\n  Clark Kent with the glasses off\n  Power fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\n  Crip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\n  Latin King tomorrow keep it caliente\n  I send Spanish niggas to visit your label\n  Rep for mi gente and take your digital cable\n  The God hard body\n  Y'all ain't physically able\n  To test me\n  I'm Jet Li\n  This whipping is fatal\n  Blast skets\n  Y'all niggas is past sex\n  Acting like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n"},{"id":265013,"name":"The Matrix feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price and DJ Premier","trackName":"The Matrix feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price and DJ Premier","artistName":"Black Milk, Sean Price, Pharoahe Monch & DJ Premier","albumName":"Tronic","duration":227.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"1: Black Milk]\nFor every pair of lines I spit\nI leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\nIf you not parallel to my paragraphs\nApparently if they say I'm better than you\nThere's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\nMovin' forward ahead of you\nLike you ridin' a bike\nAnd you can't move till' the pedals do\nNobody teams compare\nBold niggas fallin' so fast\nThey need to pull the strings on a parachute\nSo stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\nWe can start with the letter U, S\nFood for thought, thought for fools\nWhere niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\nThe hood is out for dollar signs\nWe trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\nTry to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\nAudiences applause for the curtain calls\nAll the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\nYou's a let down like convertible roofs, I\nSee the mic and murder the booth, nah\nKillin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nFour finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\nYou couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\nCouldn't string together some shows\nIf hoes would sing together a song for you\nAnd then you came when the doughs good\nI'm Billy Joel, I really soul\nMight dust off some red vinyl that's really old\nOr chop drums\nOn a roll while I'm shotgun\nWith a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\nI bomb crews, I'm hot\nI'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\nThe Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\nA pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\nLike pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\nI'm tight\nPaintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\nGet more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\nWhile y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\nIt goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\nSmoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\nNiggas rap about daffodils\nTree hugger\nThat's when the gat clap ya grill\nP mug ya\nMy defense is offense\nOffense is nonsense\nDrunk with a kufi on\nPraying to Allah bent\nClark Kent with the glasses off\nPower fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\nCrip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\nLatin King tomorrow keep it caliente\nI send Spanish niggas to visit your label\nRep for mi gente and take your digital cable\nThe God hard body\nY'all ain't physically able\nTo test me\nI'm Jet Li\nThis whipping is fatal\nBlast skets\nY'all niggas is past sex\nActing like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n\"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n\"Caught in the matrix\"\n\"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n\"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Matrix feat. Pharoahe Monch, Sean Price and DJ Premier\n  artist: Black Milk, Sean Price, Pharoahe Monch & DJ Premier\n  album: Tronic\n  duration_ms: 227000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  1: Black Milk]\n  For every pair of lines I spit\n  I leave you paralyzed and bent so clear a path\n  If you not parallel to my paragraphs\n  Apparently if they say I'm better than you\n  There's no reason for me to put myself on the pedestal\n  Movin' forward ahead of you\n  Like you ridin' a bike\n  And you can't move till' the pedals do\n  Nobody teams compare\n  Bold niggas fallin' so fast\n  They need to pull the strings on a parachute\n  So stop the comparisons and get buried up under American soil\n  We can start with the letter U, S\n  Food for thought, thought for fools\n  Where niggas will take a life for the jewels and a pair of shoes\n  The hood is out for dollar signs\n  We trade the heaven skies for a slice of the devil's pie\n  Try to make it my downfall but see all I know is the tour\n  Audiences applause for the curtain calls\n  All the best now is spittin' the truth, Why?\n  You's a let down like convertible roofs, I\n  See the mic and murder the booth, nah\n  Killin' shit precise like a snipe that's on top of the roof, ha\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  Four finger ring rap, sling slang, Pharaohe the flow's good\n  You couldn't hang if you was Ving Rhames in Rosewood\n  Couldn't string together some shows\n  If hoes would sing together a song for you\n  And then you came when the doughs good\n  I'm Billy Joel, I really soul\n  Might dust off some red vinyl that's really old\n  Or chop drums\n  On a roll while I'm shotgun\n  With a wireless MPC 4000 I got one\n  I bomb crews, I'm hot\n  I'm cool, the Top Gun, but not\n  The Fonz or Tom Cruise, I got\n  A pool of lyrical warn shots that you shouldn't respond to\n  Like pant legs around the ankles of hipsters\n  I'm tight\n  Paintin' a more visual picture than Pixar\n  Get more, skull than Skeletor or rip fuel\n  While y'all bite like parasites and pitbulls\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n\n  It goes punch, shoot, stab, kill\n  Smoke this, sniff that, nigga pass the pills\n  Niggas rap about daffodils\n  Tree hugger\n  That's when the gat clap ya grill\n  P mug ya\n  My defense is offense\n  Offense is nonsense\n  Drunk with a kufi on\n  Praying to Allah bent\n  Clark Kent with the glasses off\n  Power fuckin' Lois Lane cause her ass is soft\n  Crip tonight/kryptonite, but I'm a blood today\n  Latin King tomorrow keep it caliente\n  I send Spanish niggas to visit your label\n  Rep for mi gente and take your digital cable\n  The God hard body\n  Y'all ain't physically able\n  To test me\n  I'm Jet Li\n  This whipping is fatal\n  Blast skets\n  Y'all niggas is past sex\n  Acting like a boss get lost, what up Hex?\n\n  \"You, you, you love my style cause I'm not what ya used to\"\n  \"Caught in the matrix\"\n  \"It's out of hand, how the man gotcha\"\n  \"You're in my Dangerfield like Rodney\"\n"}]