If Pharoahe Monch were a drill sergeant, "Simon Says" would be his boot camp anthem! This track is all about commanding attention and getting the crowd hyped, as if Simon himself morphed into a hip-hop maestro. Monch uses his razor-sharp lyrics to slice through the mundanity of mainstream rap, urging listeners to shake off complacency with every thunderous beat. It’s not just a call to party; it's a clever critique wrapped in a club banger. He pokes fun at the superficial glitz of the music industry while celebrating raw, unpolished talent from the streets of NYC. So when Simon says jump, you don't just ask how high—you bounce off the ceiling!
Simon Says
Lyrics
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh
Uh-uh, uh, ahh
Get the fuck up
Simon says, "Get the fuck up"
Throw your hands in the sky (buh-buh-buh-buh-buh)
Queens is in the back sipping 'gnac, y'all, what's up?
Girls, rub on your titties (yeah)
Yeah, I said it, rub on your titties
New York City gritty committee pity the fool
That act shitty in the midst of the calm, the witty
Y'all know the name (uh)
Pharoahe fuckin' Monch, ain't a damn thing changed (uh)
You all up in ya Range and shit, inebriated (uh huh)
Strayed from your original plan, you deviated
I alleviated the pain with long-term goals
Took my underground loot, without the gold
You sold platinum 'round the world, I sold wood in the hood
But when I'm in the street and shit, it's all good
I'm soon to motivate a room, control the game like Tomb Raider
Rock, clock dollars, flip tips like a waiter
Block shots, style's greater, let my lyrics anoint
If you holding up the wall, then you missin' the point
Get the fuck up
Simon says, "Get the fuck up"
Put your hands to the sky (buh-buh-buh-buh-buh)
Brooklyn in the back shooting craps now, what's up?
Girlies, rub on your titties (yeah)
Yeah, fuck it, I said rub on your titties (uh huh)
New York City gritty committee pity the fool
That act shitty in the midst of the calm, the witty
Yo, where you at? Uptown, let me see 'em
Notorious for the six-fives and the BMs
Heads give you beef, you put 'em in the mausoleum
And shit don't start pumping 'til after 12 PM
Uh, ignorant minds, I free 'em
If you tired of the same old everyday you will agree, I'm
The most obligated, hard and R-rated
Slated to be the best, I must confess, the star made it
Some might even say this song is sexist-es
'Cause I asked the girls to rub on their breast-eses
Whether you're riding the train or a Lexus-es
This is for either or Rollies or Timex-eses
Wicked like Exorcist, this is the joint
You holding up the wall then you missing the point
Get the fuck up
Simon says, "Get the fuck up"
Throw your hands in the sky (buh-buh-buh-buh-buh)
The Bronx is in the back shooting craps now, what's up?
Girls rub on your titties (yeah)
I said, rub on your titties
New York City gritty committee pity the fool
That act shitty in the midst of the calm, the witty
New Jeruz, get the fuck up
Shaolin (yeah) get the fuck up
Long Isle (come on) get the fuck up
Worldwide (come on, come on) get the fuck up
Writer(s): Troy Donald Jamerson
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
What is the Meaning of Simon Says
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