[Pharoahe Monch]
 Yo  it's the verbal assult weapon with words uncanny
 You can fool me but I cannot fuck with Rudy Gulliani
 Press the panic button  shit it's the schizophranic  can it
 I can kill it from the West Coast to the Atlantic
 Nowadays it seems it's hard to maintain
 Can't take the stress  yes God  I'm going insane
 If you can fill my veins say "Yes"
 If you can feel the pain say "Stress"
 Pharoahe, I possess the skills to bring it to yor chest
 With lyrics and manifestation for the entire nation
 With his excellency Prince standing next to me
 And especially Extra P on the SP
 12 zero zero, I stand tall and be a hero
 In times of stress, the Pharoahe won't fess

 Crush, kill, destroy, stress (Repeat 16x)

 [Large Professor]
 Now nothing ain't deeper than having to throw a nigga in the sleeper
 Don't stress, and take that shit from Large Profess
 Cause I be on the train trying to maintain
 Getting lower than the whole while the record man gain
 And it make me want to sting somebody, with the shottie
 Cause I can't relate to living less than great
 So I while I make a fat beat to eat
 Some of my mans from John Ball high school are sleeping in the street
 That stress shit is ill, if you let it, it will
 Having your ass on the staircase smoking a scrill
 Never that for me, nigga my name's Extra P
 I can't afford to be stressed the fuck out in '93
 Or '94, cause everybody knows my solution
 to being stressed is looking at the front door

 Crush, kill, destroy, stress (Repeat 8x)

 [Prince Poetry]
 God knows I can't take this stress
 Working my fingers to the bone, my middle fingers for all you rap singers
 Not representing your hood
 I stroll through the projects giving niggas dap cause my respect's good
 Verbal assassinator, sharp with the tounge, I come
 Out of my pockets to fulfill a wish before another brother
 And another one, that you're looking for
 Mr. Bigot, officer, I'm legit, now can you dig it?
 Hey lady, I don't want your pocketbook, my black ass
 Don't like my ass black? I'd rather cross the street leaving a stupid look
 On your grill, spark a phil, parlay
 ?Hosey toe? in the spot, call up ?Concay?
 Extra Large Profess, give the rest of the old funk
 So what I left the rhyme on the dresser
 My man Dy-Lou, he's in this, rest in peace, you're in here
 ?Reckapice? you be the daddy, God knows you're in there
 Sincere's the queer cause the East is representing
 Baby doll, Prince is my name, shit's real, so listen