In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
I'll advance to your backside, foot and put
Nine prints and diss a meantimes, where the sun don't shine
So get a flah of the spotlight fast
You got kicked in the ass by the man with the eyes of glass
Slide from me you money kicking the dull crap
I'll make your skull snap, seeing me all at
In this here field my foot equals yield
Your brain is simple and reveal while mine is sealed
Coming up with the archeological finds
Funk drums allow me to spark you with rhymes
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
While you was doing the butt, I was putting game down
You frowned before now you wear the same frown
Just as long as the buck I sit when I think
I couldn't care less who was jelling the Profess-or
Sir Scratch and K-Cut the Main Source
Back to break more atoms of course
With the beat no more melodious, votes I surprise folks
I'm as sharp as a toothpick, come and watch the youth kick
The game so tough cause the shine I'll scuff
Busting the fluff cause I'm just that tough
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
I stomp supposed comp like a posse
Brothers try to squash me, so I speak harshly
On the constant truth of the Main Source crew
I peruse the place just to see what I can do
To stupid MC's whose rhymes sound fabricated
Heads get deflated when the Professor's untranslated
Style gets everyday play
Brothers on the butters can't flip the Parkay
Their mouths are sealed like Zip-Loc bags
Fake like wrestling and small like frags
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
Finessing the songs like this, babblists get bust with the quickness
Baby hit the mist
You want to feel hard times, then friend say your rhymes
The results will be about 10 volts in your mind
I'll electrify, your brain is hollow like a tunnel
I squeeze out doubt like a funnel
I'm the MS rep on the microphone
If I say what you don't like, go home
That's why the places I play stay packed
You like what I say and you always come back
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
Nine prints and diss a meantimes, where the sun don't shine
So get a flah of the spotlight fast
You got kicked in the ass by the man with the eyes of glass
Slide from me you money kicking the dull crap
I'll make your skull snap, seeing me all at
In this here field my foot equals yield
Your brain is simple and reveal while mine is sealed
Coming up with the archeological finds
Funk drums allow me to spark you with rhymes
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
While you was doing the butt, I was putting game down
You frowned before now you wear the same frown
Just as long as the buck I sit when I think
I couldn't care less who was jelling the Profess-or
Sir Scratch and K-Cut the Main Source
Back to break more atoms of course
With the beat no more melodious, votes I surprise folks
I'm as sharp as a toothpick, come and watch the youth kick
The game so tough cause the shine I'll scuff
Busting the fluff cause I'm just that tough
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
I stomp supposed comp like a posse
Brothers try to squash me, so I speak harshly
On the constant truth of the Main Source crew
I peruse the place just to see what I can do
To stupid MC's whose rhymes sound fabricated
Heads get deflated when the Professor's untranslated
Style gets everyday play
Brothers on the butters can't flip the Parkay
Their mouths are sealed like Zip-Loc bags
Fake like wrestling and small like frags
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
Finessing the songs like this, babblists get bust with the quickness
Baby hit the mist
You want to feel hard times, then friend say your rhymes
The results will be about 10 volts in your mind
I'll electrify, your brain is hollow like a tunnel
I squeeze out doubt like a funnel
I'm the MS rep on the microphone
If I say what you don't like, go home
That's why the places I play stay packed
You like what I say and you always come back
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Large Professor Lyrics as written by Paul Mitchell Kevin Harold Mc Kenzie
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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