| Huh, huh, huh
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| Mister Cee, are you wit me, uhh
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| Mister Cee, are you wit me, DIG IT
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| Gangster or prankster, define yourself, huh
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| And put that rough talk on the shelf
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| You talk all that robbery shit, but it’s lame
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| You wouldn’t steal first base at a baseball game
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| Never sold drugs, you never was a thug
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| But you’re talking ying-yang like as if you’re in a gang
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| I mean for goodness sake
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| The only beef you ever had was a sirloin steak
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| You wanna question me and all the words I say
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| Well, you can bring the noise any fuckin day
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| I rock a rugged-a-ruff rhyme to besiege ya
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| And if I see you at a party, put up your dickbeaters
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| By time I get through wreckin your jaw
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| You be callin Patti LaBelle and Barry White hardcore
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| Why should I give up for gangster contrast
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| When I can rap about gettin some ass
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| To prove that I’m a gangster only brings me trouble
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| But the proof that I’m a lover * sound of a zipper *
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| It’s that easy but still you insist (yeah)
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| That I do this (what?) |