| Follow me, everybody spread around, I want you all to hear this
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| Join me, sit down, sit down
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| I wanna tell you 'bout something, I got a story or something
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| Listen
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| I knew this girl named Roulette-lette-lette
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| The coolest woman I ever met, met, met
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| I never tried to hook it up, up
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| But I used to fantasize about the guts
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| Fuck, bust nuts, rush
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| Grab the gold and carry it in your mouth
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| But I’m a try to hold the microphone and turn the party out
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| And if it’s the type of crowd that doesn’t like to shout, fuck it
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| I’ll give 'em something to chew on, something to talk about
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| Snap, crackle pop rock, never had a sawed-off
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| Don’t never wanna blow up, cause I never wanna fall off
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| Adjacent to that vacant lot, next to the weed spot
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| Sits a headshop, beneath a tree watching peace talks
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| So let me catch a round of applause
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| So maybe I can persuade some lady out of her bra (come on baby)
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| Ladies and gentlemen…
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| We now ask that you give a warm Minnesota nice welcome to MC
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| I’ve gotta be your man on the mic, you know…
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| Ladies and gentlemen, give it up
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| Put your hands together, put your hands…
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| Cause if we can’t do it together
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| We’ll do it apart
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| Ain’t no way we’ll ever make it how it was at the start
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| But that’s a given
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| Now within the distance of your vision measure the persistence
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| How are you living?
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| I’ll smack the whack and sell 'em crack
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| While I’m laying down my mack
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| (I'm trying to tell you homeboy)
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| I’ll get sick on a trick, talking shit firm grip on my dick
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| (Ayo bitch I got what you need bitch, yo, yo)
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| I make moves and get loose wearing a camouflage goose
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| (And that’s juice, like what, what, what, what)
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| Yes, yes, I never stress
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| Make a mess on the mic sipping a Becks, wearing a vest
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| Cause well, you know
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| It’s that Rhymesayer with a razor, truck jewelry, Chuck Taylors
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| (Yo man, pass that blunt kid, yo kid, kid)
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| Tall sharp and handgun, paid a ransom for these pants dun
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| So step off kid you’re playing me too close
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| If we can’t do it together
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| We’ll do it apart
|
| Ain’t no way we’ll ever make it how it was at the start
|
| But that’s a given
|
| Now within the distance of your vision measure your persistence
|
| How are you living?
|
| Killed all the thoughts about killing all the cops
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| No longer get as pissed off when I have to jerk my dick off
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| I just want a mic and a crowd and if that’s asking for too much
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| Fine, lemme just have that mic and I’ll be alright (I'll be alright)
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| Stuck, between a rock and the sky
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| With an option to buy and I got lost in a lie
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| Tossed them fakes out the door, I ain’t your whore
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| I make music, can you feel it?
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| Cool, then I’m a make some more
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| Yes, yes ya’ll you are now rocking with the best of the mess hall
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| En route to the basement, while Ant drives the vessel
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| All apologies to those insulted
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| By the repulsive vultures that fly loose when I’m seduced by the impulses
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| (By the impulses)
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| Defense mech in effect, protect the rep
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| From all forms of public infliction
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| But listen I love the ripping, so fuck the friction it takes focus off what’s
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| the mission
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| (Yo tell 'em what’s the mission)
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| To be the man on the mic, to be the man on your mind
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| To be the man that made you push rewind
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| To be that mother fucker over there on that mic
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| You know what that means?
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| That means I can show you what I need you to see, see, see
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| (See here, what you need to do is follow, follow us baby
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| Before you can… what you need to do is see, see, see, see, see)
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| If we can’t do it together
|
| We’ll do it apart
|
| Ain’t no way we’ll ever make it how it was at the start
|
| But that’s a given
|
| Now within the distance of your vision measure your persistence
|
| How are you living?
|
| Measure your persistence
|
| How are you living?
|
| Measure your persistence
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| Higher living |