| Yeah man
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| Not a fan of all that garbage that they got out here man calling it music
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| But there is still a lot of good hip-hop though
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| Some good music out here too
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| So I’ma give yourself melodic, you know what I mean?
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| Big Shug with a couple of friends, feel me
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| Aha
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| It’s what it is
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| Aha
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| Not a fan though of that garbage
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| Check it
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| Only spitting shit you got to believe
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| You’s about as hood as Drake and Justin Bieb
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| You’s about as real as Hulk and Superman
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| Come to Mattapan, my sons will break your hands
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| Spicy veggies, curry, Pakistan
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| Big Shug reign supreme, I’m still that man
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| You can run if you want to, I’ll blaze your car
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| Nice footwork, you can go dance with the stars
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| Or decay in the trunk of a old stolen car
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| You don’t mean nothing to me, I don’t care who you are
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| One call will still get you stomped in a ball
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| No fronting tough, I done seen it all before
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| If I got beef, trust me, I’ll bring it to your door
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| And chop your ass up like I’m zipping the raw
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| You’s a cop caller, I see in your eyes
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| A snitch dude, the kind to despise
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| So I’ma open my stance with a bat in my hand
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| ‘Cause I’ma send your head to the back of the stands
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| To be bagged and tagged in the back of a van
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| And buried deeply in six feet of sand
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| Yap, yap, yap, I can’t understand
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| You’s a good rapper, but I’m not a fan
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| I’m not a fan of yours
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| I’m not hating, all I’m just saying
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| Is I’m not a fan of yours
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| I’m not a fan, man
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| Look that way
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| Fuck out of here with that shit
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| Termanology
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| Shug, what up
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| Uh
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| I ain’t a fan of that shit you write, the whips and ice
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| You claim you got, how you play the blocks in Mercedes drives
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| When the truth is you’re going through illusions
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| Sitting in the house full of doubt, it’s confusing
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| You rap about ice, but you ain’t got a chain
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| Claiming you’re a gangster, but you ain’t got a name
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| Rappers nowadays perpetrate how they percolate
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| Man I miss the Raekwon, Ghostface, Purple Tape
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| Man I miss the De La, Gang Starr, Tribe days
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| Now we got a bunch of fake guys coming sideways
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| Looking in the mirror like «really, I’m the realist killer that ever lived»
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| But they never lived how we lived
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| I was raised in the ghetto, can you say the same though?
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| If you never lived like this, you shouldn’t say so
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| The music industry is fake as fuck, the music that they’re making sucks
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| Man I tell you I couldn’t make this up
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| Cheah
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| I was talking with the legends
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| Hood politicking ‘bout the present state of rap and what you rep ain’t
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| impressing
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| No, I’m not a fan
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| Was dope when you could throw a wack tape in garbage can
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| But now digital iTunes eliminate the physical, goddamn
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| Getting tagged with your BS
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| Radio payola got all the dumbed down rappers grabbing BDS
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| You see me stressed, you see the big homie Shug call Term and Reks
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| Told us aim for the necks
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| Cross dressing emo thugs, transgender sex
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| You can get the one between ring and index
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| Ding ding then flex off the turnbuckle then suplex
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| De La Soul, too complex
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| And with your nonsense bullshit content
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| If I don’t like it, I don’t like it, that’s common sense
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| Mattapan, I salute you, rest in power to the Guru
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| Forever gon' rep for the true school
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| Word up |