| Ready on the right, ready on the left
|
| Ready on the firing line
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| Mu’fuckers better step up your bars!
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| Mu’fuckers better step up your bars!
|
| Mu’fuckers better step up your bars!
|
| Mu’fuckers better step up your bars!
|
| I take it back, back to the golden era of rap
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| When it was exactly that
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| Not specifically, jams in the park
|
| But when MC’s used to talk with advanced thought
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| I take it back, back to the golden era of rap, when it was exactly that
|
| Not specifically, jams in the park
|
| But when MC’s used to talk with advanced thought
|
| Ay yo DJ Premier on the boards
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| Can-I-Bus, on the bars with the lyrical law
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| Just listen to the rhymes, don’t behave cool to be kind
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| And I’m a show you how I’m nice with mine
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| Forced to start from scratch, to rhyme from the heart
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| When I rap, lookin' forward to not lookin' back
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| I spit supernatural, look out for the planet-sized shrapnel
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| Rip The Jacker 'bout to get at you
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| Rip, and seek, and destroy the motherfuckin' beat mission
|
| The rugged rudeboy, Rasta on 'roids trippin'
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| Martial arts for the mind, Mandelbrot hip-hop design
|
| You don’t understand, stop tryin'
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| The hip-hop conglomerate, we legends puttin' it down
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| You gotta honor it, fuck the politics!
|
| The B2 bomb pilot, waitin' for that long silence
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| Then I was diagnosed with tinnitus
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| The cuneiform symbols on my uniform tell you what I’ve been through
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| Nigga I wish it was that simple
|
| The master gunnery combatant blastin' mixtape assassin'
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| Captain Cold Crush get it crackin'
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| Heat it up 'til the bones blacken
|
| My microphone double action I grab it, switch the automatic
|
| The savage spittin' it rapid I ricochet 762 jackets
|
| Full metal gold plaque classics
|
| I take it back, back to the golden era of rap
|
| (Mu'fuckers better step up your bars!)
|
| Not specifically, jams in the park
|
| But when MC’s used to talk with advanced thought
|
| I take it back, back to the golden era of rap
|
| (Mu'fuckers better step up your bars!)
|
| Not specifically, jams in the park
|
| But when MC’s used to talk with advanced thought
|
| The phonograph fascist, let’s see who can reload fastest
|
| You chronograph still in the past tense
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| Double shot glass of absinthe, still spittin' fantastic
|
| You are absent has been, I’m still rappin'
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| The Roman gladiator clashin', chariots crashin'
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| Chest plate split in half with axes, blood splashin'
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| What you wanna speak about? |
| Let’s weed it out
|
| Fore I turn into something somebody gotta bleed about
|
| If I feel the need for speed, do not freak out
|
| Armor upgrade beneath seat mount
|
| No seat belt, breath in, breath out, then lean out
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| White phosphorus, smoke screen the whole street out
|
| Fire squad gotta reroute, SWAT team can’t see now
|
| RPG launch out the tree house
|
| Got a casualty, tell me what the beef is about
|
| He don’t wanna talk, let him bleed out, don’t need him now
|
| PTSD MC, the kind you read about
|
| Turn the beat up Premier, this is how a beast sounds!
|
| I take it back, back to the golden era of rap
|
| When it was exactly that
|
| Not specifically, jams in the park
|
| But when MC’s used to talk with advanced thought
|
| I take it back, back to the golden era of rap
|
| When it was exactly that
|
| Not specifically, jams in the park
|
| But when MC’s used to talk with advanced thought
|
| Mu’fuckers better step up your bars! |