| Coming to damage you spitting understandable slang at you
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| I’m the all seeing lyrical with infinite bars and visuals
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| And the sideways eight peripheral
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| I told you I spit a rhyme that’ll melt the Earth
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| Then ask you in the afterlife if you felt the verse
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| On Planet Earth I search for my Tranquility first
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| I said I was the illest but it didn’t help me it hurt
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| And whenever I said, «Can-I», the crowd said, «Bus»
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| Ten years later who am I? |
| I still got a passionate love
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| To be the man who I was, never give up
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| Irrational rush to crush every mic I clutch
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| When I erupt you duck or eggs clash flash solar blast from Bus
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| Then sweep you off the stage like crumbs
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| Grab your tongue, shout, rip it out, then shove it back in your mouth
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| NOW! |
| Then tell you to spit it out
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| I spit about them lyrics my people can’t live without
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| Been around since '97, I’ve been ripping it down
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| Spit track after track after 'Beast From the East'
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| I’m back before Lil' Weezy knew how to rap
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| When T.I. |
| was still hustling crack, I put the muscle in rap
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| 100 Bars, who fucking with that?
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| A thousand bars later I ain’t heard nothing from Pap
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| Where you was at when I was giving Big Punisher dap?
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| On stage with a him at the Palladium
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| You was in a gymnasium, I was putting chainsaws to craniums
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| Blazing Homosapians in the atrium ripping jaws off aliens
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| Performing 'Channel Zero' in stadiums
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| Up at Hot 97' disgracing them
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| Any radio station they place me in I broke the break-beats in
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| I beat her, I beat him, the beat blend, I beat them
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| Spit a verse to beat Barrack Obama if he win
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| I’m the Beast From the East, picking meat out my teeth
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| And as soon as the beat stop I forget how to speak
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| I release a better rhyme seven times a week
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| To beat me you gotta be better than my last release
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| The bars rip ya face off, spit bars, spit shine ya skull
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| 'Til every rhyme you memorize is gone
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| Battle you for the respect in a battle to the death
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| Dial zero, call the operator ask for Bis
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| 411 ask for RIP
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| 555−1212, I rip the mic to shit
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| Before the Federal Communication Commission started a new division
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| With the intention to cripple our children
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| Mentally deficient from television
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| This radio programmer we listen to got to many elements missing
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| Lyricism and wisdom got overshadowed by the singing and blinging
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| Deceived by a system that’s media driven
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| A made a vow that I would get them and bit them, then injected my venom
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| And for that? |
| I was never forgiven my nigga
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| I let the rhythm hit them with a chemical algorithm
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| Liable to kill them if I ever get with them I rip them
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| The infinite monk, 'All Hail Can-I-Bus'
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| Then wake up to this 'Pure Uncut'
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| 'How Many Emcees' do I have to bust?
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| 'I'm A Patriot' with 'No Airplay' but 'How Come'
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| 'My Block is Your Block', I throw it up with 'Doo Wop'
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| I’m the «Enemy of the State"of Hip Hop
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| 'Indibisible', Indestructible, 'Canibustible'
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| The 'Adversarial Theatre Justice' judging you
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| Tired of you posers, I’m the rap superstar soldier on a poster
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| 'Captain Cold Crush'
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| Tuck the heat before I brush the teeth
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| The athlete at the track meet with rusty cleats
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| Artillery like lawn mowers with four motors and four rotors
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| Look like a mom with four strollers
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| Counterstrike like 'Black Kobra'
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| With gasoline in the Super Soaker, walk over, I’ll roast ya! |