| Stop as we drop this bomb
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| Blow up this place like another Vietnam
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| Heavy like a Tyson blow to the dome
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| Back up son give me room give me room
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| To set it off like this don’t give it up
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| I’m all up in you 'til you just can’t get enough
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| Real hard to the bone you want more?
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| I sneak up on you like a sniper at your back door
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| Phat flavor for your brain you know the time
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| So check the wrath it’s for real cause I’m gonna get mine
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| Roll up on you like Eastwood
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| Blowin' up fifteens as I’m ridin' through your neighborhood
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| I spreads butter like Parkay
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| Real smooth with the flow and even when I parlay
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| Do what you feel and check the skill
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| I’m in your grill peep this I got the raw deal
|
| In your Jeep Cherokee or Land Cruiser
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| When you’re rollin' through the hood you want use a
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| Track like this all up in your eardrum
|
| So check the E.Q. |
| and let them speakers hum
|
| And gets crazy like Prozac
|
| Hype enough to start a party and illy as a heart attack
|
| Round one round two knock out
|
| Straight to your head like my round never lights out
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| Tah rah tah rah tah rah boom dee
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| Tah rah tah rah tah rah boom dee a
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| Jimmy Jimmy y’all Jimmy damn Jimmy yea
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| Gimme the mic Rob so I can take it away
|
| Got more lines than the welfare office
|
| Are you upset you’ll never get to be as clever as this?
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| Spreadin' quicker than your mom have a feel but don’t cop it
|
| Yeah I stole your beat but that’s cause you dropped it
|
| Crude as oil unrefined but slick
|
| I’m gonna get you from behind like a gay convict
|
| Cause my name ain’t Quasimodo but I still got a hunch
|
| That like the Jim Jones cult I’ll take you out with one punch
|
| You’re Spiro Agnew and I’m the Dick you answer to
|
| You’re sweatin' like a watermelon at a Baptist barbecue
|
| Sneakin' up like celery yeah I’m stalkin'
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| I squeak like Stephen Hawking yeah but I’m walkin'
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| Nose to ground so this Bloodhound will sniff and follow it
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| I hope you choke on your pride when I make you swallow it
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| Screamin' like a Mimi when you see me comin' near ya
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| Like a Kenny Loggins' record no one’s ever gonna hear ya
|
| Like a game of Hide and Seek it’s all over if I see ya
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| Cause you’re yellower than tinkle and you’ll be runnin' like diarrhea |