| Perverted Monks style
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| '99 style, knowhatimsayin?
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| Comin at cha, this how we do Paraplegic, my fightin stance too strategic
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| No shadows on my kicks too much Chi horrific
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| To be specific, I’m comin threw with jiu-jitsu
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| Bone crushin bone breakin as I get into
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| Scorpion styles, with the speed of a cheetah
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| Hit your pressure points with light skills, I be The blaster, Iron Palms is elemental
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| Combinations damagin nations in the mental
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| Cerebral cortex is obsolete
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| You’ll die ten times if you try to test me Taoist master, rhyme style disaster
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| Studied on the cliffs of mountains readin scrolls
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| Holdin it down, iron shirt chigung
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| Apprentice in the temple with Guang Jung Nim
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| I went through torture deadly styles I’m the author
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| Ingested metals, yeah they made me supernova
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| Triple spinnin kicks, side kicks, and hook kicks
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| They come much iller, so you must be Masta Killa
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| It’s Afu, change my style, change the weather
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| It’s Afu, change your mind, just too clever
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| It’s Afu, all the weak styles I sever
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| Combinin two styles on the mic with Masta Killa
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| The great ones have searched for the righteous data
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| To show and prove and master the separation of matter
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| And seein through death, never loose conscious of self
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| Shed a shell keep it movin factor
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| Sword swing it to the temple, mental state
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| Danger chamber, eighth yang slang, Wu-Tang
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| Train private soldiers in this rap game
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| Like that Shanghai chinky eyed chick from Bedstuy
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| Wang Chung from Lafayette, Stuyversant and Malcolm X Fifty Seven Park, it might spark, it’s the heart
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| One blood cell, featurin Masta Kill
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| After dark he goes, bust gone, trust none, touch one
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| Young chun, prodigal son, Killa Bees disease
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| Home grown, flown from over seas, city under siege
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| Ya eyes bleed, the weed got 'em red dread
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| Like spinnin roundhouse kicks to the head, he dead |