| Darkness, put your lights out
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| Couldn’t fight your way out of a urostomy bag or can of piss man
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| The strongest ones depart, the weakest ones fought til' they lost
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| That’s called Lyrical Law boss
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| ?? |
| cavalier caravanner with a calculated stare
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| I stare because doubt is there
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| I’m a poet not a puppet, you’d think the higher ups would learn from it
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| They in love with something they can’t stomach
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| Something called nothing, what of it?
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| I would like to change the subject 'cuz right now you’re just talking rubbish
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| ???find? |
| underneath the brushes
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| Underneath the tunnels that are hidden in the tundras
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| Round Table knights with night vision
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| Night Shamalon (Solomon/Shaman mix?) on the mic spitting on my Shambala visit
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| Psychologically volatile, not really my style
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| Joke around, not about me, not about my sound
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| Appear in the clouds as eyes looking down
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| You talk foul, I know what you are now
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| Density light as a feather expand and contract
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| Fall out flat, land like cats, lets rap
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| Get back! |
| Nice with his hands
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| Nice with a newspaper rolled up tight, assault rifle or knife
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| 24 inch machete, 24 hours to live
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| Come get me, my THUG Theory deadly
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| Lyrical Law is tribunal ???
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| One juro (?) with six faces, they all talk
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| At the same time til' the people’s minds are distraught
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| Javelin swords you know what they for, split your jaw
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| Everybody’s surprised that you made it this far
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| Tens of thousands of songs the catalog just goes on
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| It’s Lyrical Law, say no more! |