3-O-Clock Marco Polo (Ft. Organized Konfusion)

[Hook]
Three o'clock in the morning
Dirty time to be in
Port Authority Terminal
Alone in New York City

[Verse 1: Pharoahe Monch]
You are in need of deliverance from discriminative images
And unusual amount of musical carcinogens
Here’s an adrenaline boost with timberland boot sentiments
I vegetate in vaginal canals (No venison)
That is V for victory, averbally indicative of why I haven’t been inundated
Shit, I demonstrated before that, I see the beat as a clitoris
And my tongue as the stimulation that’s vibrating from slow to vigorous
It moves with the finesse and the smoov-ness
Even inside the grooves of a record
Check it, check it again
And check the metaphors, make sure they’re makin’ sense and then
TwitPic it like courtside Knicks tickets
Gifted with algorithms, terrific with quantum physics
Merciless with the words, your verses are quite horrific
And poor morally, I never support ‘em
Caught ‘em in the Port Authority off guard and fought 'em orally
Renegade 13, who want W.A.R.?
At three o’ clock in the mornin’
My spawn escaping the grips of Satan, my supremacy is Bourne
My identity is Jason
Which you are now currently hearing, I recite it in verbatim
No ultimatum, played ‘em, laid ‘em out on the curb
Made ‘em wait before I slayed 'em when I served ‘em with the verbs at