| Call me, hits and say jack, cause I get no punani
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| Flippin' a script, leaving the sucker ducks behind me
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| I’m a threat to poetry, you know it’s me
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| When you see brothers, running around, here now Duck Down
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| Here comes the Buckshot Shorty
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| Swingin' tracks, with more rhythm and blues then Berry Gordy
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| Doing damage, when I vanish an MC, and picture the dream
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| I’m a warrior, not Freddy Kruger Part Three
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| Slap that wack shit, you can face your arraignment
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| Life, I think you need some edutainment
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| Try to slave my mind frame, you catch a spazasm
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| Damn I feel good like a long awaited orgasm
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| I blow up like a nigga who doing life in jail
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| But failed, kick back and drink an ale
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| Yeah, I’m the man that control with this
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| Run with a crew, and in my mind I’m a soloist
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| I don’t walk, but verbally break x
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| That’s why I got nuff respect, in this profession
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| But all punk sucker ducks, still don’t know the answer
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| To the question
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| How we gonna fuck it up? |
| (Yo, it’s fucked up)
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| How we gonna fuck it up? |
| (Yo, it’s fucked up)
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| How we gonna fuck it up? |
| (Yo, it’s fucked up)
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| How we gonna fuck it up? |
| (Yo, it’s fucked up)
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| Here I come, with the mic in my right
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| To get paid, plus raid the lime light
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| For any MC, that’s so called, gets the props
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| I rock hip hop, non stop, to give nots
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| I’m the man, the original
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| Straight from Crown Heights, my life’s subliminal
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| Make my mark then spark, intellect, you’ll find
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| And give insight to the blind
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| I manifest the best when I step through
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| Five deadly styles, but I don’t do kung fu
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| Give me the tool and I go buckwild
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| Bitches and niggas on my dick because I’m versatile
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| So if you bite, I’ll ignite the dynamite
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| Battle words, and battles gone, but I’m not that type
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| But I get hype, when I write to a format
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| Produced by Evil Dee, so now it’s all that
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| Watch your back, cause I attack
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| And if you ain’t down with Beatminerz, your
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| Wig-wig-wack
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| Lyrical genius, mic Mr. Wonderful
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| I grab the mic and make it turn like a run-do
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| Known to poetic, to terrorize, listen
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| This is a call to other mc’s, time to televise
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| A smooth black brother on the rap scene
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| Doing my best to manifest to the fiend
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| That I can finesse, and excel beyond any dope
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| Guaranteed to turn the party out
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| I light shit up like a professional mob hit
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| No competition, cause the rest is garbage
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| Yeah, I’m not the one to get played
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| So back up off my dick, before I spark my renegade
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| Lyrical melodies are chosen
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| I revise the travel, cause the rest had 'em dozin'
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| Off, I’m the boss, don’t forget it
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| When I rip it and stick it, manifest to the wicked
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| And wow, I don’t smile when I catch wreck
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| Fuck the body blows, I’m going straight for the neck |