Whats Love (FT. Pharoahe Monch)

[Verse 1: Torae]
Coming up they told me love was the message
That somebody ain't get the memo if they left it
Kids at the table, can't feed 'em love for breakfast
Wife say she love a new pair of shoes and a necklace
So what's a real [bad word] to do?
When the masses get asked if they love what you do
And over half that they ask got rebuttals like ''who?''
We ain't heard you on the radio, dude
But not exactly
The real hip hop be coming on real late
And half the [bad word] they got in rotation is real fake
And all the real fans supporting it is real faint
And that's how all your real love can turn into real hate
But this music [bad word]  it ain't nothing like it
Gotta love the rush that you get when you feel inspired
Loving how the crowd'll react when you recite it
Gotta love it even days when you despise it
I swear ain't nothing like it

[Hook: Torae]
But love can't pay these bills
So please believe I'm here to get these meals
Got me asking ''what's love?''
And loving how you stressing for sure
So love don't live here no more
Got me asking ''what's love?''

[Verse 2: Torae]
I got niggas that love how to truly spit
And I know niggas that love doing foolishness
Use to think I would love to be in the music biz
But now I'm asking ''what's love got to do with it?''
Politics kick back, favoritism mishaps
Niggas getting higher, then fired, then put your [bad word] back
Like the headline on LeBron, you here now and you on
Go to sleep and wake up and you be hearing that you gone
Another love T.K.O
Totally killing your output if you ain't know
You gotta grind like you making love, love like you made it come
It's love out here on this court, come and get you some
So niggas asking ''where is the love?''
That ain't love in the video and love in the club
Labels loving your movement and loving your buzz
Then bring you in for the meeting, preaching ''love ain't enough''
But this music [bad word]  it ain't nothing like it
Whitney overdosed and Dion became a psychic
Michael medicated and Ron Isley indicted
Gotta love it even if you didn't like it
I swear ain't nothing like it

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Pharoahe Monch]
(The L)
Good Lord, I know these ladies love luxury
That's laminated at the top of the list - but look luckily
At least when my lungs were lacerated
I never behaved scorned or gave a sworn affidavit
When I hit rock bottom like Goliath after David
Literally when these lame labels meticated
I liberated my life with love and levitated
And left every lyric I laid completely obliterated
(The O)
Must be on on top, but no options
And you can't operate orally without oxygen
I was stealing petty cash when they were past the offering
In line on sundays, that's when I knew I hit my optimum
Low, but I still got a stand in though
You know? I guess who really needs to know
I guess the oodles of O's will never grow
Unless you use your noodle they quadruple like voodoo
(The V)
Van Gogh verbally, victory won't visit you
When your vibe's violated and adverts are not visible
And vocally the volume's muted
Very devoted, but every conversation convoluted
(And the E)
Epilogue, editor, my etiquette elicited
My effort exponentially expands when solicited
The E-M-C-E-You know you have to say it twice, but only if you're nice
Cause it's nothing like, it's nothing like