[{"id":98646,"name":"Thirteen","trackName":"Thirteen","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress: The Extinction Agenda","duration":232.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Pharoahe monch]\nComin ahh comin ahh\nI'm comin like a redneck trucker!\nWatch your back *screech* you can't steer it\nFace the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\nIt's the most incredible rap individual style\n\nPiles up like drug cases in queens\nCountry criminal court shorty step back\nNigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\nFuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\nAnd battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\nBut if you would like it to the stage and mic it\nC'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\nHit me in the face why don't ya\nPrince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\nPharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\nThen i take it's name and change it's religion\nThen i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\nFor trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\nThat's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\nChorus\n\nI, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\nThis it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\nThus allowing me to climb and then shine\nThis is a process that will occur in due time\nBust, everything i thrust is activated\nStyles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\nTougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\nAs if i was blanka\nKids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\nSilly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\nAnd squash your little minds with rhymes\nRhymes that are rituals\nSo i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\nNot to sell units, you know\nThey say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\nFor the periodical table of contents symbol au\nHey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\nScraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\nCrazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\nThen i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\nRaps shatter shows like grenades\nI rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\nChorus\n\nPa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\nGimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\nWith some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\nTeachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\nLa-di-da, i flip it la-di\nLive at a mardi gras, or even at a party\nGive me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\nStunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\nI never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\nI kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\nFlippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\nThe m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\nWith the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\nHere comes the rain again!\nFlowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\nThat's for the enemies, that's in the industry\nWho don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\nSuck my dick, from the back\nWith a crazy straw, you lazy whore\nDo that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\nNo chief, no heads\nMooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n[Prince poetry]\nAsshole!\nWhat am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Thirteen\n  artist: Organized Konfusion\n  album: 'Stress: The Extinction Agenda'\n  duration_ms: 232000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Pharoahe monch]\n  Comin ahh comin ahh\n  I'm comin like a redneck trucker!\n  Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it\n  Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\n  It's the most incredible rap individual style\n\n  Piles up like drug cases in queens\n  Country criminal court shorty step back\n  Nigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\n  Fuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\n  And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\n  But if you would like it to the stage and mic it\n  C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\n  Hit me in the face why don't ya\n  Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\n  Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\n  Then i take it's name and change it's religion\n  Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\n  For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\n  That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\n  This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\n  Thus allowing me to climb and then shine\n  This is a process that will occur in due time\n  Bust, everything i thrust is activated\n  Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\n  Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\n  As if i was blanka\n  Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\n  Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\n  And squash your little minds with rhymes\n  Rhymes that are rituals\n  So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\n  Not to sell units, you know\n  They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\n  For the periodical table of contents symbol au\n  Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\n  Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\n  Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\n  Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\n  Raps shatter shows like grenades\n  I rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\n  Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\n  With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\n  Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\n  La-di-da, i flip it la-di\n  Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party\n  Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\n  Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\n  I never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\n  I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\n  Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\n  The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\n  With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\n  Here comes the rain again!\n  Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\n  That's for the enemies, that's in the industry\n  Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\n  Suck my dick, from the back\n  With a crazy straw, you lazy whore\n  Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\n  No chief, no heads\n  Mooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n  [Prince poetry]\n  Asshole!\n  What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!\n"},{"id":30309021,"name":"Thirteen","trackName":"Thirteen","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress : The Extinction Agenda (30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)","duration":211.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Pharoahe monch]\nComin ahh comin ahh\nI'm comin like a redneck trucker!\nWatch your back *screech* you can't steer it\nFace the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\nIt's the most incredible rap individual style\n\nPiles up like drug cases in queens\nCountry criminal court shorty step back\nNigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\nFuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\nAnd battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\nBut if you would like it to the stage and mic it\nC'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\nHit me in the face why don't ya\nPrince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\nPharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\nThen i take it's name and change it's religion\nThen i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\nFor trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\nThat's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\nChorus\n\nI, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\nThis it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\nThus allowing me to climb and then shine\nThis is a process that will occur in due time\nBust, everything i thrust is activated\nStyles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\nTougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\nAs if i was blanka\nKids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\nSilly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\nAnd squash your little minds with rhymes\nRhymes that are rituals\nSo i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\nNot to sell units, you know\nThey say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\nFor the periodical table of contents symbol au\nHey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\nScraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\nCrazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\nThen i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\nRaps shatter shows like grenades\nI rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\nChorus\n\nPa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\nGimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\nWith some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\nTeachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\nLa-di-da, i flip it la-di\nLive at a mardi gras, or even at a party\nGive me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\nStunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\nI never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\nI kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\nFlippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\nThe m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\nWith the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\nHere comes the rain again!\nFlowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\nThat's for the enemies, that's in the industry\nWho don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\nSuck my dick, from the back\nWith a crazy straw, you lazy whore\nDo that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\nNo chief, no heads\nMooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n[Prince poetry]\nAsshole!\nWhat am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Thirteen\n  artist: Organized Konfusion\n  album: 'Stress : The Extinction Agenda (30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)'\n  duration_ms: 211000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Pharoahe monch]\n  Comin ahh comin ahh\n  I'm comin like a redneck trucker!\n  Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it\n  Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\n  It's the most incredible rap individual style\n\n  Piles up like drug cases in queens\n  Country criminal court shorty step back\n  Nigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\n  Fuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\n  And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\n  But if you would like it to the stage and mic it\n  C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\n  Hit me in the face why don't ya\n  Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\n  Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\n  Then i take it's name and change it's religion\n  Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\n  For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\n  That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\n  This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\n  Thus allowing me to climb and then shine\n  This is a process that will occur in due time\n  Bust, everything i thrust is activated\n  Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\n  Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\n  As if i was blanka\n  Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\n  Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\n  And squash your little minds with rhymes\n  Rhymes that are rituals\n  So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\n  Not to sell units, you know\n  They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\n  For the periodical table of contents symbol au\n  Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\n  Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\n  Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\n  Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\n  Raps shatter shows like grenades\n  I rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\n  Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\n  With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\n  Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\n  La-di-da, i flip it la-di\n  Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party\n  Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\n  Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\n  I never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\n  I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\n  Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\n  The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\n  With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\n  Here comes the rain again!\n  Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\n  That's for the enemies, that's in the industry\n  Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\n  Suck my dick, from the back\n  With a crazy straw, you lazy whore\n  Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\n  No chief, no heads\n  Mooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n  [Prince poetry]\n  Asshole!\n  What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!\n"},{"id":21139942,"name":"Thirteen","trackName":"Thirteen","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress: The Extinction Agenda (CD 1)","duration":232.280816,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Pharoahe monch]\nComin ahh comin ahh\nI'm comin like a redneck trucker!\nWatch your back *screech* you can't steer it\nFace the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\nIt's the most incredible rap individual style\n\nPiles up like drug cases in queens\nCountry criminal court shorty step back\nNigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\nFuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\nAnd battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\nBut if you would like it to the stage and mic it\nC'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\nHit me in the face why don't ya\nPrince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\nPharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\nThen i take it's name and change it's religion\nThen i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\nFor trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\nThat's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\nChorus\n\nI, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\nThis it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\nThus allowing me to climb and then shine\nThis is a process that will occur in due time\nBust, everything i thrust is activated\nStyles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\nTougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\nAs if i was blanka\nKids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\nSilly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\nAnd squash your little minds with rhymes\nRhymes that are rituals\nSo i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\nNot to sell units, you know\nThey say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\nFor the periodical table of contents symbol au\nHey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\nScraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\nCrazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\nThen i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\nRaps shatter shows like grenades\nI rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\nChorus\n\nPa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\nGimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\nWith some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\nTeachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\nLa-di-da, i flip it la-di\nLive at a mardi gras, or even at a party\nGive me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\nStunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\nI never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\nI kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\nFlippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\nThe m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\nWith the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\nHere comes the rain again!\nFlowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\nThat's for the enemies, that's in the industry\nWho don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\nSuck my dick, from the back\nWith a crazy straw, you lazy whore\nDo that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\nNo chief, no heads\nMooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n[Prince poetry]\nAsshole!\nWhat am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Thirteen\n  artist: Organized Konfusion\n  album: 'Stress: The Extinction Agenda (CD 1)'\n  duration_ms: 232281\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Pharoahe monch]\n  Comin ahh comin ahh\n  I'm comin like a redneck trucker!\n  Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it\n  Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\n  It's the most incredible rap individual style\n\n  Piles up like drug cases in queens\n  Country criminal court shorty step back\n  Nigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\n  Fuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\n  And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\n  But if you would like it to the stage and mic it\n  C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\n  Hit me in the face why don't ya\n  Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\n  Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\n  Then i take it's name and change it's religion\n  Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\n  For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\n  That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\n  This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\n  Thus allowing me to climb and then shine\n  This is a process that will occur in due time\n  Bust, everything i thrust is activated\n  Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\n  Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\n  As if i was blanka\n  Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\n  Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\n  And squash your little minds with rhymes\n  Rhymes that are rituals\n  So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\n  Not to sell units, you know\n  They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\n  For the periodical table of contents symbol au\n  Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\n  Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\n  Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\n  Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\n  Raps shatter shows like grenades\n  I rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\n  Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\n  With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\n  Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\n  La-di-da, i flip it la-di\n  Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party\n  Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\n  Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\n  I never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\n  I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\n  Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\n  The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\n  With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\n  Here comes the rain again!\n  Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\n  That's for the enemies, that's in the industry\n  Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\n  Suck my dick, from the back\n  With a crazy straw, you lazy whore\n  Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\n  No chief, no heads\n  Mooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n  [Prince poetry]\n  Asshole!\n  What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!\n"},{"id":35950417,"name":"Thirteen","trackName":"Thirteen","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress (The Extinction Agenda)","duration":211.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Pharoahe monch]\nComin ahh comin ahh\nI'm comin like a redneck trucker!\nWatch your back *screech* you can't steer it\nFace the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\nIt's the most incredible rap individual style\n\nPiles up like drug cases in queens\nCountry criminal court shorty step back\nNigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\nFuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\nAnd battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\nBut if you would like it to the stage and mic it\nC'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\nHit me in the face why don't ya\nPrince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\nPharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\nThen i take it's name and change it's religion\nThen i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\nFor trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\nThat's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\nChorus\n\nI, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\nThis it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\nThus allowing me to climb and then shine\nThis is a process that will occur in due time\nBust, everything i thrust is activated\nStyles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\nTougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\nAs if i was blanka\nKids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\nSilly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\nAnd squash your little minds with rhymes\nRhymes that are rituals\nSo i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\nNot to sell units, you know\nThey say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\nFor the periodical table of contents symbol au\nHey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\nScraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\nCrazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\nThen i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\nRaps shatter shows like grenades\nI rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\nChorus\n\nPa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\nGimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\nWith some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\nTeachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\nLa-di-da, i flip it la-di\nLive at a mardi gras, or even at a party\nGive me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\nStunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\nI never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\nI kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\nFlippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\nThe m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\nWith the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\nHere comes the rain again!\nFlowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\nThat's for the enemies, that's in the industry\nWho don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\nSuck my dick, from the back\nWith a crazy straw, you lazy whore\nDo that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\nNo chief, no heads\nMooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n[Prince poetry]\nAsshole!\nWhat am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Thirteen\n  artist: Organized Konfusion\n  album: Stress (The Extinction Agenda)\n  duration_ms: 211000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Pharoahe monch]\n  Comin ahh comin ahh\n  I'm comin like a redneck trucker!\n  Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it\n  Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\n  It's the most incredible rap individual style\n\n  Piles up like drug cases in queens\n  Country criminal court shorty step back\n  Nigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\n  Fuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\n  And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\n  But if you would like it to the stage and mic it\n  C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\n  Hit me in the face why don't ya\n  Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\n  Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\n  Then i take it's name and change it's religion\n  Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\n  For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\n  That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\n  This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\n  Thus allowing me to climb and then shine\n  This is a process that will occur in due time\n  Bust, everything i thrust is activated\n  Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\n  Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\n  As if i was blanka\n  Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\n  Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\n  And squash your little minds with rhymes\n  Rhymes that are rituals\n  So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\n  Not to sell units, you know\n  They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\n  For the periodical table of contents symbol au\n  Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\n  Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\n  Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\n  Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\n  Raps shatter shows like grenades\n  I rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\n  Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\n  With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\n  Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\n  La-di-da, i flip it la-di\n  Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party\n  Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\n  Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\n  I never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\n  I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\n  Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\n  The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\n  With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\n  Here comes the rain again!\n  Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\n  That's for the enemies, that's in the industry\n  Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\n  Suck my dick, from the back\n  With a crazy straw, you lazy whore\n  Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\n  No chief, no heads\n  Mooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n  [Prince poetry]\n  Asshole!\n  What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!\n"},{"id":29042460,"name":"Thirteen","trackName":"Thirteen","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress: The Extinction Agenda (deluxe redux)","duration":188.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Pharoahe monch]\nComin ahh comin ahh\nI'm comin like a redneck trucker!\nWatch your back *screech* you can't steer it\nFace the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\nIt's the most incredible rap individual style\n\nPiles up like drug cases in queens\nCountry criminal court shorty step back\nNigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\nFuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\nAnd battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\nBut if you would like it to the stage and mic it\nC'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\nHit me in the face why don't ya\nPrince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\nPharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\nThen i take it's name and change it's religion\nThen i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\nFor trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\nThat's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\nChorus\n\nI, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\nThis it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\nThus allowing me to climb and then shine\nThis is a process that will occur in due time\nBust, everything i thrust is activated\nStyles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\nTougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\nAs if i was blanka\nKids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\nSilly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\nAnd squash your little minds with rhymes\nRhymes that are rituals\nSo i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\nNot to sell units, you know\nThey say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\nFor the periodical table of contents symbol au\nHey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\nScraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\nCrazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\nThen i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\nRaps shatter shows like grenades\nI rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\nChorus\n\nPa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\nGimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\nWith some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\nTeachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\nLa-di-da, i flip it la-di\nLive at a mardi gras, or even at a party\nGive me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\nStunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\nI never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\nI kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\nFlippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\nThe m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\nWith the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\nHere comes the rain again!\nFlowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\nThat's for the enemies, that's in the industry\nWho don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\nSuck my dick, from the back\nWith a crazy straw, you lazy whore\nDo that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\nNo chief, no heads\nMooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n[Prince poetry]\nAsshole!\nWhat am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Thirteen\n  artist: Organized Konfusion\n  album: 'Stress: The Extinction Agenda (deluxe redux)'\n  duration_ms: 188000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Pharoahe monch]\n  Comin ahh comin ahh\n  I'm comin like a redneck trucker!\n  Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it\n  Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\n  It's the most incredible rap individual style\n\n  Piles up like drug cases in queens\n  Country criminal court shorty step back\n  Nigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\n  Fuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\n  And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\n  But if you would like it to the stage and mic it\n  C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\n  Hit me in the face why don't ya\n  Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\n  Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\n  Then i take it's name and change it's religion\n  Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\n  For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\n  That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\n  This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\n  Thus allowing me to climb and then shine\n  This is a process that will occur in due time\n  Bust, everything i thrust is activated\n  Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\n  Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\n  As if i was blanka\n  Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\n  Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\n  And squash your little minds with rhymes\n  Rhymes that are rituals\n  So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\n  Not to sell units, you know\n  They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\n  For the periodical table of contents symbol au\n  Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\n  Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\n  Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\n  Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\n  Raps shatter shows like grenades\n  I rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\n  Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\n  With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\n  Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\n  La-di-da, i flip it la-di\n  Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party\n  Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\n  Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\n  I never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\n  I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\n  Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\n  The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\n  With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\n  Here comes the rain again!\n  Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\n  That's for the enemies, that's in the industry\n  Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\n  Suck my dick, from the back\n  With a crazy straw, you lazy whore\n  Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\n  No chief, no heads\n  Mooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n  [Prince poetry]\n  Asshole!\n  What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!\n"},{"id":26135399,"name":"Thirteen","trackName":"Thirteen","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress: The Extinction Agenda (deluxe redux)","duration":211.173878,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Pharoahe monch]\nComin ahh comin ahh\nI'm comin like a redneck trucker!\nWatch your back *screech* you can't steer it\nFace the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\nIt's the most incredible rap individual style\n\nPiles up like drug cases in queens\nCountry criminal court shorty step back\nNigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\nFuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\nAnd battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\nBut if you would like it to the stage and mic it\nC'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\nHit me in the face why don't ya\nPrince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\nPharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\nThen i take it's name and change it's religion\nThen i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\nFor trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\nThat's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\nChorus\n\nI, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\nThis it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\nThus allowing me to climb and then shine\nThis is a process that will occur in due time\nBust, everything i thrust is activated\nStyles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\nTougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\nAs if i was blanka\nKids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\nSilly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\nAnd squash your little minds with rhymes\nRhymes that are rituals\nSo i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\nNot to sell units, you know\nThey say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\nFor the periodical table of contents symbol au\nHey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\nScraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\nCrazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\nThen i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\nRaps shatter shows like grenades\nI rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\nChorus\n\nPa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\nGimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\nWith some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\nTeachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\nLa-di-da, i flip it la-di\nLive at a mardi gras, or even at a party\nGive me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\nStunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\nI never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\nI kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\nFlippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\nThe m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\nWith the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\nHere comes the rain again!\nFlowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\nThat's for the enemies, that's in the industry\nWho don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\nSuck my dick, from the back\nWith a crazy straw, you lazy whore\nDo that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\nNo chief, no heads\nMooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n[Prince poetry]\nAsshole!\nWhat am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Thirteen\n  artist: Organized Konfusion\n  album: 'Stress: The Extinction Agenda (deluxe redux)'\n  duration_ms: 211174\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Pharoahe monch]\n  Comin ahh comin ahh\n  I'm comin like a redneck trucker!\n  Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it\n  Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\n  It's the most incredible rap individual style\n\n  Piles up like drug cases in queens\n  Country criminal court shorty step back\n  Nigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\n  Fuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\n  And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\n  But if you would like it to the stage and mic it\n  C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\n  Hit me in the face why don't ya\n  Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\n  Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\n  Then i take it's name and change it's religion\n  Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\n  For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\n  That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\n  This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\n  Thus allowing me to climb and then shine\n  This is a process that will occur in due time\n  Bust, everything i thrust is activated\n  Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\n  Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\n  As if i was blanka\n  Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\n  Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\n  And squash your little minds with rhymes\n  Rhymes that are rituals\n  So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\n  Not to sell units, you know\n  They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\n  For the periodical table of contents symbol au\n  Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\n  Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\n  Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\n  Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\n  Raps shatter shows like grenades\n  I rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\n  Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\n  With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\n  Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\n  La-di-da, i flip it la-di\n  Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party\n  Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\n  Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\n  I never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\n  I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\n  Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\n  The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\n  With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\n  Here comes the rain again!\n  Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\n  That's for the enemies, that's in the industry\n  Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\n  Suck my dick, from the back\n  With a crazy straw, you lazy whore\n  Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\n  No chief, no heads\n  Mooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n  [Prince poetry]\n  Asshole!\n  What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!\n"},{"id":28059963,"name":"Thirteen","trackName":"Thirteen","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress : The Extinction Agenda (30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)","duration":232.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Pharoahe monch]\nComin ahh comin ahh\nI'm comin like a redneck trucker!\nWatch your back *screech* you can't steer it\nFace the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\nIt's the most incredible rap individual style\n\nPiles up like drug cases in queens\nCountry criminal court shorty step back\nNigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\nFuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\nAnd battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\nBut if you would like it to the stage and mic it\nC'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\nHit me in the face why don't ya\nPrince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\nPharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\nThen i take it's name and change it's religion\nThen i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\nFor trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\nThat's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\nChorus\n\nI, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\nThis it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\nThus allowing me to climb and then shine\nThis is a process that will occur in due time\nBust, everything i thrust is activated\nStyles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\nTougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\nAs if i was blanka\nKids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\nSilly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\nAnd squash your little minds with rhymes\nRhymes that are rituals\nSo i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\nNot to sell units, you know\nThey say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\nFor the periodical table of contents symbol au\nHey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\nScraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\nCrazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\nThen i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\nRaps shatter shows like grenades\nI rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\nChorus\n\nPa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\nGimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\nWith some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\nTeachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\nLa-di-da, i flip it la-di\nLive at a mardi gras, or even at a party\nGive me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\nStunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\nI never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\nI kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\nFlippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\nThe m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\nWith the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\nHere comes the rain again!\nFlowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\nThat's for the enemies, that's in the industry\nWho don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\nSuck my dick, from the back\nWith a crazy straw, you lazy whore\nDo that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\nNo chief, no heads\nMooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n[Prince poetry]\nAsshole!\nWhat am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Thirteen\n  artist: Organized Konfusion\n  album: 'Stress : The Extinction Agenda (30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)'\n  duration_ms: 232000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Pharoahe monch]\n  Comin ahh comin ahh\n  I'm comin like a redneck trucker!\n  Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it\n  Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\n  It's the most incredible rap individual style\n\n  Piles up like drug cases in queens\n  Country criminal court shorty step back\n  Nigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\n  Fuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\n  And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\n  But if you would like it to the stage and mic it\n  C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\n  Hit me in the face why don't ya\n  Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\n  Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\n  Then i take it's name and change it's religion\n  Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\n  For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\n  That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\n  This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\n  Thus allowing me to climb and then shine\n  This is a process that will occur in due time\n  Bust, everything i thrust is activated\n  Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\n  Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\n  As if i was blanka\n  Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\n  Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\n  And squash your little minds with rhymes\n  Rhymes that are rituals\n  So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\n  Not to sell units, you know\n  They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\n  For the periodical table of contents symbol au\n  Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\n  Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\n  Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\n  Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\n  Raps shatter shows like grenades\n  I rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\n  Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\n  With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\n  Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\n  La-di-da, i flip it la-di\n  Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party\n  Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\n  Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\n  I never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\n  I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\n  Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\n  The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\n  With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\n  Here comes the rain again!\n  Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\n  That's for the enemies, that's in the industry\n  Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\n  Suck my dick, from the back\n  With a crazy straw, you lazy whore\n  Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\n  No chief, no heads\n  Mooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n  [Prince poetry]\n  Asshole!\n  What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!\n"},{"id":38114260,"name":"Thirteen","trackName":"Thirteen","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress: The Extinction Agenda (Instrumentals)","duration":211.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Pharoahe monch]\nComin ahh comin ahh\nI'm comin like a redneck trucker!\nWatch your back *screech* you can't steer it\nFace the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\nIt's the most incredible rap individual style\n\nPiles up like drug cases in queens\nCountry criminal court shorty step back\nNigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\nFuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\nAnd battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\nBut if you would like it to the stage and mic it\nC'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\nHit me in the face why don't ya\nPrince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\nPharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\nThen i take it's name and change it's religion\nThen i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\nFor trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\nThat's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\nChorus\n\nI, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\nThis it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\nThus allowing me to climb and then shine\nThis is a process that will occur in due time\nBust, everything i thrust is activated\nStyles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\nTougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\nAs if i was blanka\nKids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\nSilly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\nAnd squash your little minds with rhymes\nRhymes that are rituals\nSo i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\nNot to sell units, you know\nThey say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\nFor the periodical table of contents symbol au\nHey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\nScraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\nCrazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\nThen i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\nRaps shatter shows like grenades\nI rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\nChorus\n\nPa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\nGimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\nWith some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\nTeachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\nLa-di-da, i flip it la-di\nLive at a mardi gras, or even at a party\nGive me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\nStunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\nI never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\nI kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\nFlippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\nThe m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\nWith the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\nHere comes the rain again!\nFlowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\nThat's for the enemies, that's in the industry\nWho don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\nSuck my dick, from the back\nWith a crazy straw, you lazy whore\nDo that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\nNo chief, no heads\nMooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n[Prince poetry]\nAsshole!\nWhat am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Thirteen\n  artist: Organized Konfusion\n  album: 'Stress: The Extinction Agenda (Instrumentals)'\n  duration_ms: 211000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Pharoahe monch]\n  Comin ahh comin ahh\n  I'm comin like a redneck trucker!\n  Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it\n  Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\n  It's the most incredible rap individual style\n\n  Piles up like drug cases in queens\n  Country criminal court shorty step back\n  Nigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\n  Fuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\n  And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\n  But if you would like it to the stage and mic it\n  C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\n  Hit me in the face why don't ya\n  Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\n  Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\n  Then i take it's name and change it's religion\n  Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\n  For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\n  That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\n  This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\n  Thus allowing me to climb and then shine\n  This is a process that will occur in due time\n  Bust, everything i thrust is activated\n  Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\n  Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\n  As if i was blanka\n  Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\n  Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\n  And squash your little minds with rhymes\n  Rhymes that are rituals\n  So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\n  Not to sell units, you know\n  They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\n  For the periodical table of contents symbol au\n  Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\n  Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\n  Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\n  Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\n  Raps shatter shows like grenades\n  I rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\n  Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\n  With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\n  Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\n  La-di-da, i flip it la-di\n  Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party\n  Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\n  Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\n  I never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\n  I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\n  Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\n  The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\n  With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\n  Here comes the rain again!\n  Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\n  That's for the enemies, that's in the industry\n  Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\n  Suck my dick, from the back\n  With a crazy straw, you lazy whore\n  Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\n  No chief, no heads\n  Mooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n  [Prince poetry]\n  Asshole!\n  What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!\n"},{"id":40062146,"name":"Thirteen","trackName":"Thirteen","artistName":"Organized Konfusion","albumName":"Stress (The Extinction Agenda) Deluxe Redux","duration":232.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[pharoahe monch]\nComin ahh comin ahh\nI'm comin like a redneck trucker!\nWatch your back *screech* you can't steer it\nFace the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\nIt's the most incredible rap individual style\n\nPiles up like drug cases in queens\nCountry criminal court shorty step back\nNigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\nFuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\nAnd battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\nBut if you would like it to the stage and mic it\nC'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\nHit me in the face why don't ya\nPrince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\nPharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\nThen i take it's name and change it's religion\nThen i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\nFor trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\nThat's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\nChorus\n\nI, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\nThis it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\nThus allowing me to climb and then shine\nThis is a process that will occur in due time\nBust, everything i thrust is activated\nStyles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\nTougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\nAs if i was blanka\nKids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\nSilly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\nAnd squash your little minds with rhymes\nRhymes that are rituals\nSo i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\nNot to sell units, you know\nThey say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\nFor the periodical table of contents symbol au\nHey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\nScraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\nCrazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\nThen i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\nRaps shatter shows like grenades\nI rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\nChorus\n\nPa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\nGimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\nWith some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\nTeachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\nLa-di-da, i flip it la-di\nLive at a mardi gras, or even at a party\nGive me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\nStunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\nI never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\nI kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\nFlippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\nThe m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\nWith the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\nHere comes the rain again!\nFlowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\nThat's for the enemies, that's in the industry\nWho don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\nSuck my dick, from the back\nWith a crazy straw, you lazy whore\nDo that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\nNo chief, no heads\nMooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n[prince poetry]\nAsshole!\nWhat am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Thirteen\n  artist: Organized Konfusion\n  album: Stress (The Extinction Agenda) Deluxe Redux\n  duration_ms: 232281\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [pharoahe monch]\n  Comin ahh comin ahh\n  I'm comin like a redneck trucker!\n  Watch your back *screech* you can't steer it\n  Face the bass; crumb you run when you hear it\n  It's the most incredible rap individual style\n\n  Piles up like drug cases in queens\n  Country criminal court shorty step back\n  Nigga you oughta watch it my whole herd's packin\n  Fuck rappin let's take it to the corner of the block\n  And battle with the (techs) and the (glocks)\n  But if you would like it to the stage and mic it\n  C'mon dere, that's how i like it, uhh\n  Hit me in the face why don't ya\n  Prince po will hunt ya and puncture your voodoo doll\n  Pharoahe, i'm no slave to a rhythm i whip it\n  Then i take it's name and change it's religion\n  Then i chop the foot off the fuckin beat\n  For trying to escape the track, now it's obsolete\n  That's just the state of mind that i'm in when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  I, i used to play beats on the lunchroom table\n  This it really enables me to stay stable inside of my mind\n  Thus allowing me to climb and then shine\n  This is a process that will occur in due time\n  Bust, everything i thrust is activated\n  Styles i file are not decaffinated, i'm rough\n  Tougher than tonka, why i even electrify the sky\n  As if i was blanka\n  Kids follow me and my phillies like willy wonka\n  Silly, i assault and conquer, the cult and brainwash\n  And squash your little minds with rhymes\n  Rhymes that are rituals\n  So i say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock to spark brain cells\n  Not to sell units, you know\n  They say motherfucker, bitch-ass and glock\n  For the periodical table of contents symbol au\n  Hey you, you can't deny when i bust caps the whole block scatters\n  Scraps of matter shatter mad glass and what not\n  Crazy medical attention is needed to make a cop stop bleedin\n  Then i'm proceedin up the block with prince po, renegade\n  Raps shatter shows like grenades\n  I rip your shit like sinead when i...\n\n  Chorus\n\n  Pa-pa-pa power power, augh, i got the power\n  Gimme a pen and a pad i'll be back in an hour\n  With some more fat shit, i tell your empty mind\n  Teachin i'm kickin the poor black shit now\n  La-di-da, i flip it la-di\n  Live at a mardi gras, or even at a party\n  Give me bacardi (hah) i smoke blunts\n  Stunts i wanna hump, chumps i wanna pump em full of *blam*\n  I never ask the crowd to \"jump\"\n  I kick a rhyme, that ask-es you to use your mind\n  Flippin it for the masses, kickin a lot of asses\n  The m-o-n-c-h-e i drink, forties of brew\n  With the crew that rolls deeper than the mediterranean\n  Here comes the rain again!\n  Flowin on my head like a memory, now i got energy\n  That's for the enemies, that's in the industry\n  Who don't wanna be friends with me, i say fuck em\n  Suck my dick, from the back\n  With a crazy straw, you lazy whore\n  Do that shit to make a dick expand but whatcha did\n  No chief, no heads\n  Mooley, what am i an asshole?\n\n  [prince poetry]\n  Asshole!\n  What am i?... ahh! uhh! mmm, hah!\n"}]