| Ain’t no shook in 'em, Pyrex pots is hot, fiends is cooking 'em
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| Little niggas hugging the block, cops is booking 'em
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| Women hugging they purse when they spot the crook in 'em
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| Back when little J got shot, pops was whooping 'em
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| Little noses dripping with snot, ock, now look at 'em
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| The ghetto got a hook in 'em now, drugs, stay pushing 'em
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| Used to throwing dirt in these blunts, now, it’s kush in 'em
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| Used to tell these chicks to shut up, now, he’s shooshing 'em
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| Get cash, get that ass or put a foot in 'em
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| Iron Flag, flag that cab, Bedford and Put-e-nam
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| There ain’t no puss in 'em, dick, dildo, or gush in 'em
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| Niggas still got that juks in 'em
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| + (Raekwon)
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| If he front then we stomp 'em out (Get 'em out ya way pa)
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| If he drunk and he run his mouth (Get 'em out ya way pa)
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| If he front then we stomp 'em out (Get 'em out ya way pa)
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| (Get 'em out ya way pa, move, move, move)
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| I’m seduced by the chrome, it’s a ruthless poem
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| It took a little time to get his juices going
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| Producers know him as the kid with the Iron Palm
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| Righteous hammer examine the firearm
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| Approach or get fired on, permanent chest scar
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| Empire Strikes Back, check out the Death Star
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| Bless y’all, wet y’all, do the impossible
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| Where I’m from we use dum-dums in the arsenal
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| Highly sparkable, get stretched off the knuckle check
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| Known to scuffle, I take it to the upper deck
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| Universal conquest, kung fu buckle vets
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| In a dufflebag, max yo, a couple techs
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| Give 'em ear hustle, Wu brand we programmed
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| Next time we dance, it won’t be a slow jam
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| I fear no man, son you get lynched up
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| Nigga bitch get Frankenstein stitched up
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| Yeah, voice skipping off percussion
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| Give it to 'em how they love it, slow flow, deadly, beloved
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| All praise the daunting calm yet
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| So alarming, without a word being spoken
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| A thought with no voice, just a nod and a look
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| The contract was took, straight cash, off the books
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| A major pawn took a Don, look, he’s armed
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| With a few black rooks from the heart of the Crook
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| Shook ones look while they hung him on Hercules hooks
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| They found his body near a shallow brook, escaped on foot
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| Switched the look up, out of state, he got the hook up
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| The flipped cake, thought lighter than the feather
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| Yet heavier than weight when my mindstate starts to break
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| Take cover over RZA instrumental
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| I’m damn near invincible, it’s simple
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| Tell me, what are they like?
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| They got holes in the top, five round holes
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| While I was watching, this stranger, hit them
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| But his fingers went right through the bone
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| So then, they’ve… mastered it
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| It’s some style of kung fu, you know it?
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| The Skeleton Claw |