Organized Konfusion - Stress (remix) lyrics

[pharoahe monch] Yo, it's the verbal a**ult weapon with words uncanny You can fool me but i cannot f** with rudy gulliani Press the panic bu*ton, sh** it's the schizophranic, can it I can k** it from the west coast to the atlantic Nowadays it seems it's hard to maintain Can't take the stress, yes god, i'm going insane If you can fill my veins say "yes" If you can feel the pain say "stress" Pharoahe, i possess the sk**s to bring it to yor chest With lyrics and manifestation for the entire nation With his excellency prince standing next to me And especially extra p on the sp 12 zero zero, i stand tall and be a hero In times of stress, the pharoahe won't fess Crush, k**, destroy, stress (repeat 16x) [large professor] Now nothing ain't deeper than having to throw a n***a in the sleeper Don't stress, and take that sh** from large profess Cause i be on the train trying to maintain Getting lower than the whole while the record man gain And it make me want to sting somebody, with the shottie Cause i can't relate to living less than great So i while i make a fat beat to eat Some of my mans from john ball high school are sleeping in the street That stress sh** is ill, if you let it, it will Having your a** on the staircase smoking a scrill Never that for me, n***a my name's extra p I can't afford to be stressed the f** out in '93 Or '94, cause everybody knows my solution To being stressed is looking at the front door Crush, k**, destroy, stress (repeat 8x) [prince poetry] God knows i can't take this stress Working my fingers to the bone, my middle fingers for all you rap singers Not representing your hood I stroll through the projects giving n***as dap cause my respect's good Verbal a**a**inator, sharp with the tounge, i come Out of my pockets to fulfill a wish before another brother And another one, that you're looking for Mr. bigot, officer, i'm legit, now can you dig it? Hey lady, i don't want your pocketbook, my black a** Don't like my a** black? i'd rather cross the street leaving a stupid look On your grill, spark a phil, parlay ?hosey toe? in the spot, call up ?concay? Extra large profess, give the rest of the old funk So what i left the rhyme on the dresser My man dy-lou, he's in this, rest in peace, you're in here ?reckapice? you be the daddy, god knows you're in there Sincere's the queer cause the east is representing Baby doll, prince is my name, sh**'s real, so listen