| Now there’s multi styles in my possession
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| No question, I be nice
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| Rappers lose like Master Ace rollin dice
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| Who precise? |
| Check the visuals, we leave no residuals
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| Individuals makin gold diggers miserable
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| So no-no for beef, smoke the cocoa leaf
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| There’s no relief as this rap door revolves
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| And I enter, ??? |
| like people homes
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| Blow up mics like I blow illegal phones
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| Homes is flesh and bones, not the fraud you’re looking for
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| The plunder, go under, think we’re one-hit wonder, yo, I spoil it flush that talk down the toilet, sip the alcoholic
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| Uhh, then Blahzay hit you with the whatchamacallit
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| You bleed red water, step into my red quarter
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| Out of order, Medina
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| Animals eat you like piranha
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| Cat chow, I never bow, still I aim to please
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| Drain what you got like if I was your main squeeze
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| Wack MC’s ease, the end is here at last
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| Jet real fast with your tail between yo ass
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| (The more dangerous) -→Notorious B.I.G.
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| My rap begins by collision, Trigga mention
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| The flow mainstream, it change your visual decision
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| The jump funk, bodies in my trunk, and you’re really dumb, punk
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| With your odd stories, your dream ship will get sunk
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| I’m the jaw-locker, ripper, face-??? |
| cock-a-blocker
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| Body-dropper, flo'-mopper, show-stopper
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| The misdemeanor, dreamer, money-schemer
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| Slip the clip in infrared-beamer
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| Nighty-nighty deceased-dreamer
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| The wipe-out, out-wipe the competition
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| My pistol-whippin, ass-kickin, public enemy-demolition
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| They say Brownsville niggas double cross, bodybags get tossed
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| Dangerous for you niggas fuckin with my gun sport
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| (The more dangerous) -→Notorious B.I.G.
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| See, now you didn’t heed the warning, so here come the remix
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| Check the prefix: re-
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| So I’ma re-kicks yo ass splendid
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| Leavin MC’s twisted and bended from a touch of that Darkman rap segment
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| Enter the dangerzone at your own risk
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| The rap arsonist, lyrical demolisionist
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| Feel the fist when it rips through
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| Your skin, your muscle, flesh and bodily tissue
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| Never to miss you, my rhymes leave the punk seekin
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| I shoot em, then hit your dome and leave your mic leakin
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| Then I’m creepin, my style is on some next shit
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| Rhymes hit your chest and use your back for the exit
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| Flexin is not recommended
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| My lyrics bash your brains and leave your foreheads dented
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| I meant it, me, I be the Blahzay lieutenant
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| Swingin on MC’s like I’m goin for the pennant
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| (The more dangerous) -→Notorious B.I.G.
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| It’s the Hustler, Lone Shark from Saratoga Ave.
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| Ave. Saratoga from Lone Shark, Hustler to it’s
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| I’m rushin you clicks, forwards and backwards
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| My tactics interact with tracks
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| Contacts my facts to keep you flippin like a matress
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| Matress a like flippin me keep to facts
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| My contact tracks with interact tactics
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| My backwards and forwards match
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| If you peepin how I’m creepin
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| And you ain’t sleepin
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| My verse was dispersed, then reversed
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| I’m better than medicine, Next Level veteran
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| The type to go to the show, deep with three on the guestlist
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| Stop, turn around and say I’m stressin
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| Watch how I finesse this
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| And get a levelling, dissed I never been
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| Hardrocks’ll splatter, assault and batter ya My thug life-tapes are historical from archives in Attica
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| And I be the man behind the man behind the man at hand
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| When the Hustler’s in the house (oh my God) understand?
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| (The more dangerous) -→Notorious B.I.G.
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| Danger, danger
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| When the East is in the house
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| Danger, danger
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| Oh my God |