3 - 2 - 1 Lyrics

3 - 2 - 1

[prince poetry]

Yo check it out, we gonna do it like this for the ’93
flava

Know what I’m saying? letting you know this is organized

We
got the crew in the house,

And we definitely representin for the masses

So my man pharoahe monch gon’ step to mic

Let you know what time it
is

We gon-na do it like this, check it out



[pharoahe
monch]

Help me out, to my peeps in queens, clap your hands

To my
peeps in brooklyn, clab your hands

To my people in the bronx, clap your
hands

To my peeps uptown, clap your hands

It’s three strikes, two
tokes, one time for the mind

Three strikes, two tokes, one time for your
mind

Three strikes, two tokes, and one time for the mind

Three
stickes, two tokes, and one time...



Surprisssssse! huh, open your
eyes up, when I rise, huh

Pharoahe monch I got skills for the wise!

Dumb, deaf, and blind you know it’s time to organize

I’m flippin
and rippin a style for the boys who wanna get wild

For the old and young,
the golden child

I be the man with the gift of gab like santa

Catchin - stacks of beats, from here to atlanta

Ruah! what you say
little weasel? 

Can’t block the foul if the style’s cock diesel

I feel like busting loose

With the style that I produce to get juice
from a troops

Black kojack, better than beretta

Any veteran knows
the medicine man is better

Never sweat a girl that’s inside of a
jetta

I just let her pass by with a wink to the eye

It’s the
m-o-n-c-h, i, g-a-i

The greatest rapper you ever heard please won’t you
relate my

Message to my critics, get it when you rewind

It’s three
strikes, two tokes, one time for the mind



It’s three strikes, two
tokes two times for the mind (repeat 8x)



[prince poetry]

Check who gets wreck, it’s me, prince po

Old school flowing, rolling
thick with the o

R-g-a-n-i-z-e-d, peace to the pioneers that made a way
for me

To mc, and tear the roof off the mother, brother

So back on
the underground because we love you smother

Wack mc’s, like gravy on
chicken

Hope some of the homeless say that our jams is kickin

Stickin flavor, in your grill piece

Pickin fat loops for troops to bop
to, when time is ticking

Winding up, here comes the pitch

Prince po
throws strictly fast flows with no specific type of niche

But sometimes
you gotta slow down the flow

Blow up the spot and let the whole world
know

Here comes the prince po with another funky intro

Something to
parlay with and ease the mental

Our instrumentals are too much for the
average fan

So I bring the jamacian funk (uh!) that’s what it is

I am too dope, too fat, organized konfusion is back

That’s with a
"k" black, get the fly exact stack

The money, start the party
cause organzied don’t play that!



It’s three strikes, two tokes
two times for the mind (repeat 8x)