| Hip-Hop, after me there’ll be nothin else
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| That’s real
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| Uh-huh
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| I Cold Crush 'em like them Brothers
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| Disrespect me, get your whole team smothered
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| I’m still Cool like J
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| Smoke two L’s, at the crib, then I hit Shante
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| I’m still D.M.C., I Run this whole game
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| Like cats with my sons, uh-huh
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| I’m Public Enemy #1
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| I’m like Malcolm near the window with a black shotgun
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| I’m the best to do, you ain’t got a Clue
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| But you claim to be Fabolous, you ain’t taggin us
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| You too weak, you got your brain on dust
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| I got that new chrome cocked back with no rust
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| I’m like O.J., you wonder if I did it
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| But I don’t roll with snitches so you’ll never find out
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| Know the history, you’ll know yourself
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| Stick to your guns nigga and you’ll keep your wealth
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| But check your rod, and you’ll keep your health
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| When they come with short money, let the heater melt 'em
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| I’m not here to make friends, it’s just dough
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| Hip-Hop, created my flow
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| I give 'em drymouth at the end of the barrel
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| The odds of you escapin, are next to narrow
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| Follow the rhyme from the master
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| Cause when the hip-hop is done, there’ll be no after, after
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| After me there’ll be no real
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| After me there’ll be no 38 steel
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| But there’ll be plenty of corny-ass cats
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| Who want us to believe they raps and that’s whack
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| That’s whack |