| Uh
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| I’m running, running through the jungle
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| Running like a slave through the underground tunnel
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| Told y'all niggas better get these bitches
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| Cause I spit till my lips need 16 stitches
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| I am lyrical intrusion
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| You bitches can’t see me like I’m really an illusion
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| I hop up on your face and do my motherfucking two-step
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| Till I knock the meat out like a motherfucking toothpick
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| Uh, I’m nasty nigga, like Nas, like Kim, like Cassie pictures
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| Like I’m fucking Chris Stokes or that Raz-B nigga
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| Or the skin on the feet of a ashy nigga
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| I am whatever they say I am
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| Bumping like the asses on them thick bitches at Stadium
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| Fuck them other bitches I sound better in the place of them
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| I killed this shit, this the motherfucking requiem
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| Sick bitch, chicken noodle soup face
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| Calls from overseas like a motherfucking crusade
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| Crack rock and you can hit it till your nose hurt
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| Rooftop Brooklyn, made this shit in Covert
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| I run New York, I run New York
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| I am zero past a hundred, spitting like a dragon
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| That went missing from a dungeon
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| Y’all a bunch of niggas getting trippy off of nothing
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| Tie a rope around your neck and let me kick you off a bungee
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| I’m satan, and I’ma take your ass to church now
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| Running my fields and you midgets on your first down
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| I love it when these bitches know I’m better than them
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| Cause I don’t hear, not a word or a letter from them
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| I’m a fire in the midst of a forest ‘round bitches
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| And I rap elliptical orbits round bitches
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| Anaconda, I sit with an open mouth, bitches
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| And you bitches are lyrically
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| Like some fucking down syndrome, no offense
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| No shade 'n all, but y’all bitches on knees like babies crawl
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| You can catch me out in Covert, chilling like a stoop kid
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| Yeah I hear you, don’t talk bitch, do
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| [Chorus]
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| Sick bitch, chicken noodle soup face
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| Calls from overseas like a motherfucking crusade
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| Crack rock and you can hit it till your nose hurt
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| Rooftop Brooklyn, made this shit in Covert
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| I run New York, I run New York
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| I'm a lyrical criminal general
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| Take shots, but never subliminal
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| Don’t stop, ever continual
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| Running and running but never in intervals
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| Can’t even stomach the shit that I’m finna do
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| Y'all niggas want the shit that I’m giving you
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| If you front, I’m gon' put and end to you
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| I’m like Scorpion, bitch I will finish you
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| 'Make It Nasty', real real nasty
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| Why you bitches running like you will get past me?
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| Won’t happen, you bitches could get on, when I’m off it
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| Try to cross me now, you be gone in a coffin
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| It’s just me, myself and I
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| Talk tough shit and I’ma beat you till you die
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| Ask why? |
| Because I’m better than you’ll ever be
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| That’s why my shit make your shit seem lighter than Heavy D
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| Sick bitch, chicken noodle soup face
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| Calls from overseas like a motherfucking crusade
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| Crack rock and you can hit it till your nose hurt
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| Rooftop Brooklyn, made this shit in Covert
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| I run New York, I run New York |