| Ring the alarm, get on the horn and inform
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| Everyone from Oregon to Melbourne
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| That the funk phenomenon has been reborn and transformed
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| You coulda sworn that you wasn’t warned 'cause we was
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| Trapped in the box that rap had spawned
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| It was a square until we kicked it to an octagon
|
| We gotten strong from the pain it’s undergone
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| Whereupon we kill the beat when the mic ain’t on
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| That’s my motherfuckin' procedure
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| I’m cold with the flow I will freeze ya
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| I’m the emperor, I’m Caesar
|
| Can somebody tell me where the MCs are?
|
| I violate over guitars, annihilate and operate like I’m on ER
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| Lyrically gang bang 'cause I’m behind bars
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| And rearrange DNA, play like God
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| I bring it back
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| Back to life, back to life
|
| Back to life, back to life
|
| Back to life, back to life
|
| Back to life, back to life
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| It’s dang credible, original, strong individual
|
| Send a million decibels of sound through your physical
|
| Alligator ritual turns out it was the visual
|
| Proficient with the lyrical, a vision like a miracle
|
| Damage all you mumblin' MCs rhyming 'bout decimal
|
| Increasing no residual, why you still remain minimal
|
| Maximize, utilize, my plan mineral
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| Do not try to bite because my shit is not edible
|
| Rhyme unforgettable like Nat King Cole
|
| You can feel it on your neck like you in a chokehold
|
| Unfold the mystery, unload the BEP
|
| Bangin' on your speakers while you haters wait impatiently
|
| What would be the next step? |
| Next move on set?
|
| Betting that it’s over, but we haven’t even started yet
|
| More shit, raw shit, complex, intricate
|
| Resurrect the bitch and bring it back like this
|
| Back to life, back to life
|
| Back to life, back to life
|
| Back to life, back to life
|
| Back to life, back to life
|
| One show, Jay go for the gusto
|
| On a boat full of dope, goin' up flow
|
| Ali when I float it’s a KO
|
| Face to the flo', gonna hit 'em with the payload
|
| MOAB got 'em runnin' like Usain Bolt
|
| Started lowdown, now I’m in they download
|
| Slice through you slo-mo's like a Lambo
|
| Runnin' through these levels like I’m playing with a cheat code
|
| Left right, left right, BEP mode
|
| Stop, roll back on my dope shit
|
| Pablo, white Esco mine shinin' like I’m Destro
|
| Back to life with this death manifesto
|
| Yeah, Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas, in your area
|
| Yeah, Nas, Nas, in your area
|
| (Back to life)
|
| Fat boy had a nigga makin' noise 'til midnight
|
| Then that 'gac poison and got us a fist fight
|
| Hat low in a Regal, crack sold in that diesel
|
| Pack corners, gat pointed at people, know how beef do
|
| Can’t afford a funeral never
|
| Mortician have your man face lookin' like leather
|
| Have you walkin' out the wake shook and shiverin'
|
| Lookin' so different from when he was just livin' man
|
| Another 40-side killin', man
|
| North side in the sixteenth building and
|
| I’m on the corporate side, still pull off a New York walk by
|
| Keep tryin' talk fly
|
| I talk fly, verbalize a pilot
|
| Poetic fertilizer that’s lyrical shit
|
| Hip-hop die but we resurrect it
|
| Yeah bring it back, that mystic linguistic
|
| Bring it back
|
| It’s a resur-re-rection bring it back
|
| It’s a resur-re-rection bring it back
|
| It’s a resur-re-rection bring it back
|
| Bring it back (Back to life)
|
| Bring it back, bring it back
|
| It’s a resur-re-rection bring it back
|
| (Back to life) Bring it (Back to life)
|
| Bring it (Back to life)
|
| Bring it (Back to life)
|
| Yo, resur-re-rection, yeah
|
| Reassemblin' bringing it back with the pen, yeah
|
| It all depends how I be feelin' when I descend
|
| I’m prolly gonna go Kamikaze like Eminem
|
| Look at them tremblin' when I stomp in Timberlan'
|
| Boots, I come through and scoop you feminine
|
| Vibration, we penetratin' your skeleton
|
| Reanimation we bringin' it back again
|
| Son of a bitch, they wanna take what I made from nothin'
|
| Then the struggle to erase any proof that I came from sufferin'
|
| Now they hate I survived every trick by hustlin'
|
| I stay on my G, we don’t cease fire, all die
|
| Get your whole family hogtied
|
| Nigga, you small fries
|
| And you never should have started beef
|
| You know I can’t fall back like Ferrari seats
|
| I’m in the mask, all black, black hoodie and gloves
|
| Strap with the fully, dutch full of bud
|
| I’m on that Hpnotiq and Goose
|
| And I ain’t gotta shoot
|
| I’ll have your ass hangin' high from a noose, yeah |