| We the poisonous Boyz N The Hood
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| Poised to deploy and destroy alien barbarians ragin' on 'roids
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| We the '89 Raiders, Bo Jackson in your radius
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| The eighth wonder space hunter, Godless and atheist
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| Decepticon cannibals eating metal and chemicals
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| A robotic vampire fangs sinking into wires
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| Rowdy in the Audi, smoke pouring from the tires
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| To burn my kingdom you must use nuclear weapons
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| White kids started studying lessons
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| But we devils in the mental can’t see our reflections
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| Cut my way out the womb, homemade c-section
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| (Man you fucked up)
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| What would give you that impression?
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| I’m known for rushing in, tuck your chin
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| Knuckles friend, suck it in, cut your kin
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| Puncture skin, stuck up in the muck again
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| I’m bucking till they duck up in their motherfucking truck again
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| Then I’m runnin' up on them every witness that wasn’t them (brrraat)
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| I’ll fuck up your teeth like cheap fronts
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| Vegan caterers, niggas never handled beef once
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| (Nope) tofu to soul food, the vocal choke you
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| Now you can’t feel me, you’re not supposed to
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| I’m close to the edge of the mezzanine mentally
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| Steadily ready to stab like the riff from the melody
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| Telling me different I’m felony riffing
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| Melons be dripping, Something Wild, Melanie Griffith
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| Stiffing your body from lifting the shottie, vision of Gotti
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| Living as property, visual sodomy
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| Prison lobotomy, the wrong people in your head now
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| Jail dudes stand up, the king like a head count
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| I’m an animal activist, dog I’m far from a hunter
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| So Sarah Palin be the only cougar I put a gun to
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| What type of spell am I under? |
| You wanna beef? |
| Take a number
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| I wonder why these younger rappers won’t acknowledge their blunders
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| I got unquenchable hunger, my stomach rumbles like thunder
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| A real Jedi kid, you a toy Yoda like Tundra
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| You a scene out the movie 8 Mile, studio puncher
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| Runt of the litter, spit a quitter bullshitter
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| I’m the definition of driven, the prisoners have arisen
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| With visions of demolition and fission through ammunition
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| I’m wishing cannibalism was a family tradition
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| I eradicate your groups over Gladiator loops, listen
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| You think you can beat me with ether?
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| When I’m cooking somethin' fresh and y’all reheatin' pizza
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| The Intratec make you move like doo-wop dancers
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| I’m slicker, bust the blicker, then I moonwalk backwards
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| You gonna see clouds but no it ain’t the DreamWorks intro
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| Fire and brimstone in each verse tenfold
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| You thought I was ill? |
| I’m ten googolplexes times that
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| My raps are phone calls from Hell so star-69 that
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| You an actual queer, we put a rapper in a bungee sling
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| Dunny, we catapulting careers
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| The world’s most dangerous MC and I’m him
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| C-dot Title, I’m liable to be a problem
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| Your album sells like clothes at a nudist club
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| It’s the dude you love that had that line about the Krueger glove
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| Yeah, so feel the hurricane force when I murder
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| My main course is Main Source, Barbeque flame sauce |