Why

[Intro]
Show me why
Show me why

[Verse 1]
The things I find strange, Alanis finds a bit ironic
Sip the tonic
Perfect description of me: atomic
Islamic belief always clashed with mine, therefore we have beefs
Sun sets in the west and rises in the east like yeast
At least I'll say, for the most part, "That's cool and all,"
No time for argument but prayer, while Beelzee's fooling y'all
Fiasco, singed, burning, yearning like Tabasco, so there
Shooting out releases; "Mental" was my last throw
Haskells like Eddie, not Vedder
I'm better while my deejay hits the fader
Now don't get indignant, catch yourself before you act ignorant
That's a sure sign of dead minds, benign and malignant
From here to Dallas, extended with vocal stewing
My walk never switches from Patrick Duffy to Bobby Ewing

[Chorus]
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling
Show me why (Show me why)
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling, ooh

[Verse 2]
I see you looking to the left, and slowly moving to the right as you're bobbing
"Who is this?" is the question that your mind is...
Culture shock, the way we rock
Hip-hop and still drop rock
Belief beneath the beat, and it don't stop
We's bees, not killer, but we still attack on the forrilla
Just 'cause we left in Tennessee don't mean we ain't got Qs and Ps to stay on
It's been too long off in this game
Though we know we just as dope, still the treatment ain't the same from my peers
I'm guessing it's fear of innovation
But don't they contradict the golden rule as a nation?
But what I'm facing is slowly dying from frustration of real heads who recognise more than gangsters
'Cause my white-boy deejay, everything he paly, either from the old school or guaranteed to crowd move
It's universal, if you doubt it the rewind, for recollections of what I said back four lines
So raise your hands just as high as you can get them
If you feel it, show me why and keep them to the sky

[Chorus]
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling
Show me why, (show me why)
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling, ooh
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling
Show me why, (show me why)
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling

[Verse 3]
Quite rough and hammered
Not to be tampered with, court jester
I suggest you and your pals stop soliciting, selling stuff
This is an album has surpassed you
Like school on Sunday: no class
Record drill susceptible to rejectable croup
Selectable few, which is us, worthy of trust
Gained in, sustained it, proclaimed it - the factors
Been standing way too long the premises of an arch-nemesis that I been battling since Genesis
Let's finish this
My apparatus and status is, nonetheless, to be the fattest
To express with content of explicit, true check
Bonafide is up next - go test his verbal vortex
My mechanical components is spiritual links complex
Consist of powers way beyond the natural rim
The heart will tell the deepest secrets of the hardest of men
You know it's dope and that you're open, so you're raising your hands
And catching feelings while appealing to your innermost man
So throw em...

[Chorus]
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling
Show me why, (show me why)
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling, ooh
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling
Show me why, (show me why)
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling, ooh

[Verse 4]
See now, I came in the party with the deejay stance
I left with the crowd open and a whole new base of fans
Hands to the ceiling, how you're feeling's what you showing me
I thank the Lord again when people notice me
Holding me accountable to levels higher than I can attain
I stare into the eye of the storm when it rains
Like pains in birth, it hurts deep within
If you feel me, throw your hands to the ceiling again

[Chorus]
Show me why
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling
Show me why, (show me why)
Throw your hands to the ceiling, tell me what you're feeling