| Word up, let me just fuck with your mind, please
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| Aye! | 
| Ayo, yo, yo, yo! | 
| Let me fuck up your mind
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| On time, showin' you the rhythm
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| As I get wreck and get raw
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| Yeah, I be the man, comin' off, that be raw
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| It’s Busta Rhymes, givin' you much more
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| So—
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| Yo, y’all (y'all) one more time I come
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| Knucklehead flow that make you act real dumb
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| Yo (yo), I burn your food like Florence
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| Run up in your crib like my name was search warrants
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| Shut your mouth, nigga—don't you complain
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| Fix you up, mix you with cut like pro-caines
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| Oh! | 
| Insane to your brain
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| Right on your subconscious, I leave my shit stain
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| I be the mostest with rhyme overdoses
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| Hot stepping over shit like Ini Kamoze’s
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| Sick lyrics like multiple sclerosis
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| Focus, while I display flows ferocious
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| Weak niggas just fall and keep tumbling
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| Distribute lyrics like I’m hand to hand herb hustling
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| Hardcore like Quick Draw McGraw
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| Fuck what you heard, you ain’t heard this before
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| Yo—when I step in the place I leave damages
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| 'nuff bandages on pussy from miscarriages
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| Yo—watch me bring the newest recipe
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| Fuck you up quick and condemn you all with leprosy
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| Let me hit you with flows, that come various
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| (Hah) send you home and make you lie bout your alias
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| (Ha-ha) niggas can’t see my routine
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| When I round up my Flipmode niggas and get cream
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| Hey, you! | 
| You know what the fuck I mean
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| Now I’m on the scene, stepping through like Mean Joe Green
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| Now I’m making you feel the extreme
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| Till I black you out then turn on my real high beam
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| Oh shit, now I got your brains fried
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| Once you inhale smoke from my flow, carbon monoxide!
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| Use your imagination, let me take you higher
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| Rain hail snow earthquakes, Earth Wind & Fire
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| Yo, hit the dirt, get on the floor
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| I’m that outlaw nigga living right next door
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| You should just roll out the red carpet
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| All movin' targets, I got you open like supermarkets
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| Yo yo—there's only five years left
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| While niggas is scared to death they breathe they last breath
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| Days of my life goes on, word is bond
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| I make you feel my proton, neutron, and electron
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| Yo, I be the number one icon
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| Word to the holy Qu’ran, I rock on and on
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| On and on, hey, on and on and on
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| You won’t understand when I form Voltron
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| Hahahaha—everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| I make sure everything remains raw
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| Word is bond, niggas don’t really understand shit
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| Niggas don’t motherfuckin know y’all, hahah
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| Flipmode is the motherfuckin Squad y’all, hahah
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| I make sure everything remains raw, hahah
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| Word is bond, niggas don’t know the real shit
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| There’s only five years left! | 
| Word is bond
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| Niggas don’t know though
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| There’s only five years left! | 
| Hahah
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| Remember that nigga, all you, remember that
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| There’s only five years left! | 
| Hahaha |