As we move forward towards the new millennium
 
 We will no longer communicate with vocal inflections
 
 It will be necessary to communicate through
 
 telekinesis
 
 We will open your mind and concentrate harder
 
 Focus, focus, focus, focus
 
 Hey brother, what it is
 
  
  [Verse 1:]
 
 Raps like Star Wars
 
 Only the stars die, it's no sequels
 
 B-3 cases, C3P0's
 
 Before Morpheus and Neo was killing 'em
 
 We was duckin' roulettes in the hood like Remo
 
 Williams
 
 Understand an underground bomb-cipritate
 
 Get serious or die laughing like John Ritter
 
 Young Eastwood, just tryin' to eat good
 
 Breathe easy, relax
 
 Mac like Fleetwood
 
 Keep snoring
 
 Keep sleeping, I'll keep touring
 
 Come back, lay in the cut like Neosporin
 
 Came out of the fallopian blastin'
 
 Pharoahe hungrier than Ethiopians fastin'
 
 Flies all in my teeth, stomach stickin' out
 
 Niggas want dibs on the weed but ain't kickin' out
 
 See this is not American Idol
 
 This is me tryin' to eat, human survival
 
 Spit at your favorite rapper, take his title
 
 Stick needles in his eyeballs 'til his signs are no
 
 longer vital
 
 This ain't that
 
 I'm not them
 
 These ain't those rhymes, I'm not him
 
 This is more like cocaine all night
 
 Shine like the new five halogen fog-lights
 
 No
 
 More like sunshine
 
 One line in your mind to remind you of when you were
 
 nine
 
 Before you were bustin' cherries it wasn't necessary
 
 to grind them
 
 Now we all on our grizzly
 
 And you got the nerve to press Frisbees
 
 What it is
  
 
 "What it is"
  
 
 [Verse 2:]
 
 If I'm not home on the range
 
 Catch me at the range, practicing my aim
 
 Gat you in your brain, shame
 
 They thought I was backpacks
 
 Slept, didn't know that he kept inside the knapsack
 
 Today's niggas do skate-by-hits
 
 Run in your crib on some Queer Eye for the Straight
 
 Guy shit
 
 But not homosexuals they master in gunplay
 
 Rearrange your furniture, fix your feng shui
 
 They be swearin' it's cute
 
 But a B up in the glovebox, cutter in the boot
 
 With the sex appeal, and no ice either
 
 To fight the bear arms, I'm not talkin' wifebeaters
 
 either
 
 When they see me they say "That's that nigga"
 
 My last name should be "That's that nigga"
 
 Sounds kinda nice, "Pharoahe that's that..."
 
 Never catch me with them plastic cat fast niggas
 
 With the flow that's so influential
 
 Niggas fucked up they get no instrumentals now
 
 Next time you spittin' on mine
 
 Bet your bottom dollar you be spittin' over rhymes
 
 What it is
  
 
 "What it is"