Prince Poetry]

The sun reflects off of the waves at sea

Rain support roots that implants the tree

There's a breeze in the park kites fly high

Under the branches con vertibles fly by

The sky..



[Pharoahe Monch]

..blue fields green

Paints a picture that creates a scene

of the destiny that controls my fate

Reflections of light creates shapes



[Prince Poetry]

Inside of this particular sphere, I see kids in the street

When I pass, I go Beep! Beep! Beep!



[Pharoahe Monch]

See the black boy over there runnin scared

His old man runs numbers summers

Come in and he'll feel dumb if his son

doesn't have a new pair of sneakers

So he combinates people's numbers in sequence

when play straight, but not in the leaders



[Organized Konfusion]

Hip-Hop pumps inside of Jeeps and cars

It's daytime but we still peep stars

Parties every night, we gotta move, we gotta go

We gotta step, let's, jet!



We gotta get away, we gotta do it now

We gotta walk into the sun! Ha hah

We gotta get away, we gotta do it now

We gotta walk into the sun!

We gotta get away, we gotta do it now

We gotta walk into the sun! Ha hah

We gotta get away, we gotta do it now

We gotta walk.. in..to.. the.. sun..



[Pharoahe Monch]

Love and hate, black and white

Right or wrong, who is right?

Some smoke joints to annoint their brain

to the vanishing point, so they won't go insane



[Prince Poetry]

Mother may I? Yes you may

Take some giant steps, to go out, and play

I got next, sorry Duke, I got my five

You better call next, and step to the side



[Pharoahe Monch]

There's no specific topic of speech in this rhyme

I just wanna go on a ride

on a kaleidoscopic tree, visually..



[Prince Poetry]

..individually, we go our seperate ways

to get our haircuts and mustaches trimmed

Rockin a t-shirt, shorts with thick socks

with my boots that I nickname Tim-ber

Here comes dayfall

I can remember when we used to chill and hang

with Paul, Sea..



[Organized Konfusion]

We gotta get away, we gotta do it now

We gotta walk into the sun! Ha hah

We gotta get away, we gotta do it now

We gotta walk.. in..to.. the.. sun..



Sittin on a stoop, while the Johnny-pump shoots

water while we eat fruits

The radio pumps, rockin to L.O.N.S. and yes

the girls display flesh by the way they dress



[Prince Poetry]

The Ave surprises, the fulfilling collage

of scratches that strike like sticky matches

Attacking techniques with combinating

Constantly motivating highly elevating the light steps



[Pharoahe Monch]

When the air gets thick and you can feel the tension

I bypass Howard, and detour Benson

Cause I don't really feel like fencing today

So I chill in my own dimension and listen to the sax blow..

.. flow, abstract the sax always seems to relax you

But at the same time, it attacks you

In this particular era of darkness

Bust a rhyme that might enlighten the mind and spark this

trail to follow the light that's guiding you from

the evil that you walk into the sun

From what I see it's an addiction

I'll explain to the brain about pain affliction

Grab my hand, hold it tightly

Close your eyes and maybe you might see what I see

Yo, what I said simplistic

But what I see's not materialistic



[Prince Poetry]

My hayfever is actin up, so I took a couple of antihistamines

WHEW! I got struck with relief

Now patiently, I wait for the summer

Cause the spring brings pollen and that can be a bummer

A terrific brother was havin a specific get-together by the beach

Rolling Rock's, plus Peach Schnapps, served on the rocks

The Organisms play the boardwalk, pullin numbers from Pros' Peak

The scenario, where we go pumpin the Alpine stereo

Hop along the turnpike on our way to the merry-go-

-round up the herbs at six flags; we're on a mission

Hittin the streets of New York in zig-zags

Walkin to the park, hark, the herald, named Erald

who creates with charts

Central Park swarms with intellectual dialects

With the potential, of the city's best emergency medical techs

So I dip dip dive

Listen to the musicians in the park play live

The Funky Drummer was drummin even though he was a bum

Some couldn't comprehend, the vibe that blended

With the sum, there were some, who wasn't dumb

I supported with the hum, dropped five bucks, cause he was the one

Yo, I gave a clap, I gave a wink, I gave a shout

I gotta meet the Monch, STRIKE THREE, and I was out