Shocka locka...      [Cee-Lo]   Shit, behold it is me, it is the epitome of extraterrestrial energy   Experiment and enter the internals of the inner me   The art of gone, and heart of stone, and own's worst enemy      Intellect shapeshifta, God's gift a Soul slippa   Hone in on clones and blow them out of my zone   International Fanatical, the radical tactical movements   Sounds are congruent to it      Work      It is what it ain't to these, infected disease   Thought of automatons deceived, by the deceptions indeed   Who mechanically breed at methodical speeds   Distorting your genes, aborting your dreams   As coarse as it seems      Aiyyo, Work      [Cee-Lo]   I could scream, I can't seem to sleep long enough to dream   It's life on a laser beam   But I fiend for the future at my finger tips   One of the minor technicalities of my head trips      You Better Work      The Barea Soul terror, been told since stories of old   Come on let's go and then I'll show how to beat down a rhyme   And wrestle a tempo   Hold on tight, but still let yourself go      Work      This is what I'm talking about   Should I begin to spit it just like the wind   Show my power take flight and quickly ascend   Like a bird beating my wings to the pulse of nature   Scaring spiritual devils while evoking the maker   Is it wrong for me to curse in the name of right   Is it wrong for me to spit life into this mic   That's all I'm asking baby   How come the new millennium brings fright   Something wicked approaches tonight      Work      It's automatic, static battle star galactic   Microhard   It's the upgraded, complicated, premeditated   Microhard   It's the transplanted, peaceful panic, bass mechanic   Microhard   It's the psychotic, mean melodic, nod-narcotic   Microhard   (repeat)      What good is a call on the phone if you can't speak   And you find it hard to breathe   Paralyzed by my essence, mere presence I put forth   Inherently legends record all souls of expressions   Evil as evil does, better than good was   A spirit of music that once was, born out of the pool of your love   Baby I'm an agent with a flow that's so contagious   And all and all true patience, my brotha Lo told me makes for perfection   while you feeling bound by this matrix   That's why when it comes to protecting mine   I'm a brother you can call over zealous   And I lust and thrust out my staff and wet   Till the motherfuckin' rains get jealous      You Gotta Work      It's not coincidental I use my soul for a stencil to outline the rhyme   that connects machine and a mind   Until the end of time the one my kind, the message will now be profoundly   spoken, rules are meant to be broken, therefore it's my pleasure to mentor   But once learned you must learn you must yearn to discern   The mechanical glitch of artificial intelligence   But the consequence of your ignorance is the reality I now see before me:   "maybe in time we'll see"      Don't Stop, Work      The degree you'll see will 'cause casualty when the codes download   The truth will unfold uphold until the end   'Cause our destiny will be to win, you're still free to sin within      It's automatic, static battle star galactic   Microhard   It's the upgraded, complicated, premeditated   Microhard   It's the transplanted, peaceful panic, bass mechanic   Microhard   It's the psychotic, mean melodic, nod-narcotic   Microhard   (repeat)      [Cee-Lo]   I am the melody, the metaphoric prehistoric   The pre-meaning before it, preparing for war shit   Their god's only a graphic, the sky's computer blue   There is a moral malfunction, what will the machine do to you   They maliciously monopolize the mass   Niggas sleep rap and fuck they surprise you last   when you sell them your soul they supply you cash   But you can die for all they care, with your expendable ass   Because they know a new nigga, a brand new nigga   Will jump right in them tap shoes even if his feet bigger   Ain't shit sweet nigga, it's deeper than the street nigga   You and I just a virus they gonna delete nigga   Some people say go on and join what you can't beat nigga   I won't take the mark so I can't eat nigga   Holla if I'm talking to ya, (AH!)   I'll walk straight through ya   'Cause I want the motherfucker that did this to ya      Work      It's automatic, static battle star galactic   Microhard   It's the upgraded, complicated, premeditated   Microhard   It's the transplanted, peaceful panic, bass mechanic   Microhard   It's the psychotic, mean melodic, nod-narcotic   Microhard   (repeat)      Our comrade Cee-Lo is considered by many as a modern day Neo   And opposing forces known as agents will like him dead for what he know   He is The One, at least that's who Morpheus say he is   He can free the mind of a machine and give God to an atheist   But he's a daydreamer, it's all in his head   Still today's music has become the Matrix   and the real rhythm is in the red pill   So I chose it knowing I can never return once I'm gone   And I hope you got this message   I'll be waiting by the phone      It's automatic, static battle star galactic   Microhard   It's the upgraded, complicated, premeditated   Microhard   It's the transplanted, peaceful panic, bass mechanic   Microhard   It's the psychotic, mean melodic, nod-narcotic   Microhard   (repeat)