| The struggle lives hard times, we do or die
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| My whole crews fly hands high to the sky
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| So maintain son elevate try to build
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| Put down your steel cuz incarceration is for real
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| Yeah son you know its on
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| Now who would be the clown in the nine-six to mess around and catch a fist
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| I show no mercy if you irk me
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| I got physical that alert me when some herb tried to jerk me
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| Or put the squeeze on it, break down the cipher
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| But it won’t work, were tight like the Q-Tip and the Phife
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| Now is you insane is your brain intact
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| We be official when it comes to this no B.S. |
| rap
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| Here comes the lyrical, aerial raid right where you rest at
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| Now test that
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| I snatch your heart right through your chest black
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| Gettin ill thoughts when I sleep at night
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| I gotta maintain, blot the blood stains on my brain
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| From the clappin, we can make it happen
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| Remember you ain’t a killer, you only rappin
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| I hate it, rappers overexaggeratin
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| And never shot a gun in they life, they only masterbatin
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| So come clean and keep it real if you like my sound
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| And wave your hands in the air and put the nines down
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| Brothas fought daily in the streets, we reek havoc
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| On every block someones flippin like an acrobat
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| Im kinda young but I still gotta hold my own
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| And Ima maintain whats mine till the day I’m grown
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| I keep my crew up, people say I got a gang
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| But I dont smoke I dont shoot and my crew dont slang
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| We just hang tryin to get up in this rap game
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| So I can gain some fame and build my crews name
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| Rollin with juvenile thugs wit bad grades and bad ways
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| Who woulda thought that I had some AIDS
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| Dream totes and aspirations
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| Brothas are tired of being broke so maybe thats why they free-basing
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| Wastin time doing nothing
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| Livin like an outcast gotta get up get out and get something
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| Look into my eyes see if you can see what I can see
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| In my reality the whole world is after me
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| Schemin on the latch key but yo I got this locked down
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| Me and lost and found comin out the underground
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| Takin no prisoners my listeners we keep it real
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| My thoughts are militant, when Im in the killin field
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| Click click, my minds automatic, so wheres the static
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| I got some joints up in my attic if you wanna grab it
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| I form a cipher where my peace brothers dont sleep
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| You try to creep I guarantee thats when you feel the heat
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| I come correct in this rap game
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| Rappers act insane
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| Meanwhile Im blowin em out the back of the frame
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| They can’t see me, they can’t feel the real G
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| I represent, commercial rap will never kill me |