Intro

* ironically, this is the second-to-last song on the album

[Prince Poetry]
Lemon to a lime, lime to a lemon
Confusin the men-tabolism in men and women with
lyrical re-citals that I'm givin, some consider
me an intellectual hip-hop transmitter

[Pharoahe Monch]
Lime to a lemon, a lemon to a lime
I flow to many.. rhythms, to many rhythms
I rhyme, off of the tempo, sim-pl-istic
But consequently distorts the instru-mentality
causin an illusion
Organized, but at the same time, Konfusing

[Prince Poetry]
Wack emceeeeeeeeeeeees, your time is up!
Your rhymin suck (suck), on my stack
Your climbin up but not to par, Prince, Poetry posesses
the correct, literature showin you who the best is
Be-hold the Prince rose to the special occasion
Servin a bowl of Bran with the extra Raisin
Organized Konfusion blastin you with a
missile, designed for a ripper, rippin up mics
for crowds just like any-body
who rocks parties cause we carry Good-N-Plenty

[Pharoahe Monch]
Mmamamm-many mma-many many moons ago
When I reminisce I used to flow to slow
beats, keepin the pace straight
Capital M capital O capital N capital C..
cap-i-tal H, relates to a terrific
So never anticipate, on a specific style
when I ?stiplicate?, my hieroglyphic file, wait
I'm the prolific child (these.. are..)
Styles are (simplistic) we (rhymes)
Like a lime (to a lemon) and a lemon (to a lime)