The prostate (from Greek προστάτης - prostates, literally "one who stands before", "protector", "guardian") is a compound tubuloalveolar exocrine gland of the male reproductive system in most mammals.
In 2002, female paraurethral glands, or Skene's glands, were officially renamed the female prostate by the Federative International Committee on Anatomical Terminology.
The prostate differs considerably among species anatomically, chemically, and physiologically.
The function of the prostate is to secrete a slightly acidic fluid, milky or white in appearance, that usually constitutes 20–30% of the volume of the semen along with spermatozoa and seminal vesicle fluid. Semen is made alkaline overall with the secretions from the other contributing glands, including, at least, the seminal vesicle fluid . The alkalinity of semen helps neutralize the acidity of the vaginal tract, prolonging the lifespan of sperm. The alkalinization of semen is primarily accomplished through secretion from the seminal vesicles. The prostatic fluid is expelled in the first ejaculate fractions, together with most of the spermatozoa. In comparison with the few spermatozoa expelled together with mainly seminal vesicular fluid, those expelled in prostatic fluid have better motility, longer survival and better protection of the genetic material (DNA).
Da dove mi telefoni non muoverti da lì
Ho mani che mi tremano polmoni che respirano
Ah...sei ritornata dolce malattia di un anno fa
E dicono che al mondo amore più non c’è
Perché non hanno visto me
Ma presto io e te
Con due nuvole di fiato, io e te
Ci diremo ti ho pensato, io e te
Ritorneremo io e te
Con la spesa al mercatino , io e te
Con la voglia di un bambino ,io e te
Ritorneremo io e te
Se sfascio l’automobile
Portatemi , portatemi da lei
E se io fossi per morire certo guarirei
E dicono che al mondo amore più non c’è
Perché non hanno visto me
Ma presto io e te Ma presto nel viale
Con due nuvole di fiato, io e te correndoci incontro
Ci diremo ti ho pensato, io e te ma presto a casa
Ritorneremo io e te coi soldi contati
Con la spesa al mercatino , io e te faremo l’amore
Con la voglia di un bambino ,io e te ma presto ma presto
Ancora insieme, io e te ma presto ma presto
Ritorneremo io e te Ma presto nel viale
Con due nuvole di fiato , io e te correndoci incontro
Ci diremo ti ho pensato , io e te ma presto ma presto
Ancora insieme io e te ma presto a casa
Ancora insieme io e te ma presto ma presto
Ancora insieme io e te ma presto ma presto
...welcome to the roots, the roots
Check it, check it, black thought, is in the house
And uhh, malik b, is in the house
We're groovin out, yes in the house
*discordant talk*
Just get on the mic with your master plan
Verse one: malik b
I can make you dance, I can make you shout
The scripts in the scroll turned the whole party out
Inject my lyrics in a sec with dialect
Why accept, because it's from the highest eye and depth
Rap extrordinaire share me never ever
See through because I be true, malik's together
Intox your cells till your brain vein swells
Niggaz'll claim terror when their never parellel
Once I have a hunch that there's mc's that front
I just crunched a whole bunch, in one big munch
I always stand firm, under any term
My actions never squirm cuz my tracks is perm
I have a tendency to defend this mc
My residency is simply in sensei
I makes it vivid, on different continents of earth I pivot
It seems extreme and exquisite but ask it is it
My style is like a cat from a seventies flick
Talkin jive as he strut with his afro pick
Or a predator, just before he stalks his pray
When I talk this way, I do dismay
See you're puzzled, now how I think you're trying to juggle
My mind is like a nine m double, now there's trouble
The roots bring you styles and all types of creed
I sign off but I shall proceed
Chorus:
I shall, proceed, and continue, to rock the mic (4x)
Verse two: black thought
Yo, we could get fly, we could get fly
We could get fly that's the anthem of my
Crew not to glorify but it's sorta high
Troubles of the world bring tears to my eye wonder why
My man, can't vaccinate, y'all know the fate
Similar to the way I'm a disease on tape
To escape metropolis is such a violent state
I spill words over pages, styles over phrases
From the world's different stages for crowds of different ages
Though not a nova, you witness like jehovah
Now niggaz beg for lyrical plague to pass them over
Righ right niggaz is like stick up kids
Doin bids you got caught, enter the black thought
I interface with bass when I communicate
Crowds I elevate, to another mindstate of
Rap thinking, see musically the black thinking rhythm
Therefore, I give em what I'm giving, therefore
I give em what I'm giving that's the hardcore
The roots'll keep it real for sure, and I shall proceed
Chorus
Rockin on the microphone I do this well (repeats)
*crowd cheers*
As the final days begin, God sends four terrible horsemen *horses neighing*
To reek his vengeance on a sinfull word. the first three bring
Conquest to war and famine.
[intro: killah priest]
Yea, yea, yea, yea.
Yea, yea. fuck that!
(set it off.) yea, yea, ya shitted.
Ya in some shit now, son.
It's on now, mothafuckas can suck my dick.
I'm back! fuck that shit!
Ready to eat niggaz up, beat they ass and e'rything, son.
I'ma prove this shit, right here.
Me and my nigga. what!?
[movie sample]
Violence and punishment of enemies.
[killah priest]
I give a fake rapper a heart attack, once I start to rap
I'm a vocalist, nigga, I'm supposed to rip
Last poet's told me this, hit ya in ya head wit my explosive fist
Then I finish ya off with my tremendous horse-kick *horses neighing*
What now, nigga? look at ya talk shit
Just can't do it, 'cause you ain't got no teeth in ya mouth
And I know ya just tired of me, beatin ya out
Ya trained all year, in a karate class
And took one second, to put yo' ass in a body bag
>from a shotty blast, I walk up in ya club and ya parties don't last
I like to pop shit, don't get me started
I slap y'all mothafuckas like y'all little kids in kindegarten
Squeeze yo' head till yo' kidneys harden
Now watch this, i'ma call my whole mothafuckin squadron
[movie sample]
The four horsemen of the apocalypse are among the bible's
Most terrifying figures.
[killah priest]
'cause y'all niggaz is fucked up
And brooklyn niggaz is really ready to get ya
I know how to hit ya, and cut ya open
But don't worry, 'cause i'ma stitch ya
With a rusty screwdriver
[chorus x2: killah priest]
Niggaz bop yo' heads to this, real shit
Call up yo' cliques to this, it's realness
You feel this in yo' streets and village
Spare that new shit, priest killed it
[canibus]
Yo, yo, yo
Yo I'm a macabeast mc and I possess the ability
To run at top speed without bendin my knees
I destory shit...
[movie sample]
The fourth horsemen is the most frightening of them all.
[canibus]
...wrap my hands around ya neck region
Then I start squeezin 'til ya stop breathin
You weaklins is playin tug-of-war wit ya tongues
I knock the teeth out ya gums and suck the breeze out ya lungs
Hit ya wit a blow your physical frame could never sustain
You'll probably never walk ever again
Nigga, you think you rhyme sick? I leave you lyin stiff
Pull you behind my horse til I break ya spine, bitch
Stop cryin bitch, before I hit ya wit the iron fist
You can't rhyme bitch, the one triple nine's mine bitch
The pain'll make ya voice change octaves
>from low-pitched to high-pitched, every hour we kill a hostage
We judge mc's by they lyrical fitness
And punish dj's for puttin corny stickers on they mixes
Smack the stripper bitches for askin for our autograph and pictures
You'll be scared to leave the club wit us
You stratch my back, I'll scratch your's bitch
I'll eat ya salt-fish, if ya suck my sausage
I got an atomic sub, armed wit a sub-atomic scud
Ready to spill ya crimson-colored blood
The four horsemen on the back of four quadropeds
Puttin four hoof prints on ya foreheads, mothafuckas!
featuring Bahamadia
Rock on, to the break of dawn
Freak on to the early morn
Khadafi and Sue-kwon, you got it goin on
To my man Big Shawn, you got it goin on, now, yo
You got The Roots in the house
We also got Bahamadia in the house, representin lovely
With you ears now proceed
It's flavor you wouldn't believe as we proceed
Chorus:
I shall... proceed... and continue... to rock the mic (2X)
Verse One: Malik B
Let's, kill all the small talk, and just elaborate
The Roots collaborate I see myself as rather great
How the words generate, whole crews disintergrate
when I pentrate
As if in the course flow with intensive force
You best to go and check your source about my textual course
Simplicity, it sounds complex, you might miss it
But after you critique it you can kiss it
I'm assissting fire force that leaves statistics
When identify niggaz simplify you'll feel no sympathi
My lyrics send you on a permanent excursion
I never would decide when your lifespan was submergin
My style is urban not surburban when I'm splurgin
Gosh these MC's I wash more than detergent
I can split the Red Sea but deadly
Take heed, illadelph style as I proceed
Chorus
Verse Two: Bahamadia
Bahamadia hits the melodies mellowly
Brand new, funk doobie, choosy with the tactics
when I gets Raw, like Dice, nice
with the flavor, Do You Want More?!!!??!
Of the Organix, pure
Eargasmatic, from Distortion to Statics
Automatic, systematic
I'm nasty at it
So hand me the five micraphones like they did Illmatic
One time for the mind
Rhyme be coming from an illadelph state of mind
The real is not whole or half time
all the time, and I shall proceed
I'm movin on baby, I shall proceed
To remain, on point like an infrared beam
Succeed, in chasing out the ultraviolet dreams
No Mas like Shorty, cuz it's all about me
Chorus
Verse Three: Black Thought
Black and handsome, holdin MC's for ransome
Thoughts command some, is this, a phantom?
Crews I mangle, y'all know my anthem ain't the Star Spangled
I hit you from the most bizarre angle, rectangular
visions of papes my mind conceive
Motivatin me to acheive as I must proceed
when I ride the train, traumatized to maintain
but laid back, the tracks can relax the brain
I got to deal with everything on this intelligent plain
Servin as a killer
to the pain I live a High Life like Miller
Me and the mic's mechanized
Respect recognize with mind beyond wise
Limitless when I bless the mic with speak
Dialect never weak, y'all niggaz know Tarik
From seven-fifth Snider Ave. got the flavor you need
For the ingredients indeed so to the lead I shall proceed
Chorus *fades*
Lost my cool at a brand new school
Where the kids all smelt kind of strange
And I threw my chair when I caught the teacher's glare
As she called me little Mary-Jane
All the ribbing that I god-damn took
From the kids left my ego in a whirl
And the kids would say while I sat and watched them play
Hey there kid are you a boy are a girl
Praise the day I'm old and grey
And don't look much like a girl
And the kids all come and dance in the streets
Proclaiming me the king of the world
Figured it'd be fine when I hit grade nine
And I'd grow a big beard really soon
Till the first day of gym when I met father tim
And he sent me to the girl's change room
Illustrate my weekly pass come across as feeling crass
Submit for credit or just share your thoughts
Search my archive for a joke a thousand drives and beers and hopes
Look out god I'm gonna die
My black candle won't stop smoking even though I blew it out
My stigmata are signs of disease
Reputation as the finest burnt your bridges to be sane
Look out god I'm gonna die
Now in the end I will surely transcend
All the things I was never meant to be
So with some skill and a little good will