"Who's This?_copy" genre: Hip Hop
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	Surreal's ode to those who oppose.
	CD: "The Resurrection (Cultivated Assault p1)"   Label: Phantom Pro Credits: Written, Produced and Performed by Master Surreal, Co-produced by X-Plicit.
	Story Behind the Song "Who's This?" is about all these backstabbing cats, denying me respect. The original beat was programmed by X-Plicit and re-done by Master Surreal. The song was recorded in one take (verses). Lyrics Who's This? (99 version) (D.S.Munro) [Chorus] Who's this, MC Flowin' through your cerebellum, Who's this, Who give it to ya, straight, that's how I tell 'em, Who's this, Sick of these lies, it's getting hot, It be Surreal, punk, WHAT? You can have a Iller vocabulairy, be smarter, spit harder, You can rock Hillfigger, Polo or Starter, You still aint as complete an artist, as me, The unidentified, unexplained, paranormal, anomaly, Ayo, I lace beats, cut, scratch, n write my own rhymes, My steez hits you hard and unexpected like a landmine, Flow is Fatt like Boba, elevating like yoga, Plus I function, drunk, weeded or sober, I turn on you, Like the weather in october, Like the bridge, your rap careers now over, Your star come crashing down to earth like super grover, Head into the field to find a four leave clover, I aint a bad man, Its really quite sad man, That you pretend to know about the master plan man, You got more talk then skills, now wherere your actions, I condemn you for sending me in the wrong direction. [Chorus] Who's this, MC Flowin' through your cerebellum, Who's this, Who give it to ya, straight, that's how I tell 'em, Who's this, Sick of these lies, it's getting hot, It be Surreal, punk, WHAT? Who won tess me, impress me, on some fake shit, The way you trip, shake you like milk, real quick, Actin flabbergasted, guns you blastin, Go home , go to bed, youre sick, get some asprin, Take a rest, you aint got the assets, I bet, you catch a heart attack, from this stark threat, Or better yet, turn comatose, the phantom pro (who?) bout to turn your spirit, to ghost, Outa here, clean your window, to see it clear, Here, have some tissue, and whipe away your tears, From the front to the rear, you cant come near, Like HIV, I strike fear, In your heart, assuming you have one, Your brain shrivelled from the blunts, like your,Huh?, get the pun? Dont get it twisted, I aint dissin you for fun, heres the deal I burned your mask, took away your appeal, Thats real [Scratched Chorus] Whos this?

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