| One two one two, i am
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| The devastating, dominating, rocking emcee, Casual
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| Running it down
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| For all you wack ass motherfuckers, who don’t know how to kick a rap
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| And to some of y’all niggas that think you know how, heeere we go
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| I got a pencil, which is my only utensil
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| To convince you bitches, who is, the truest
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| But no glitches, i do it to my flow switches
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| Casual enriches hip hop
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| I know you waiting to see it stop, or even pause
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| Cuz i’m leaving y’all wack emcees, can’t even come up with dope shit (aha)
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| I hope it hurts you, the way i work you should convert you
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| From a non-believer to a John Retriever
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| Stay calm cuz we the undisputed
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| I’m the targt, no one can shoot it
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| Even then dny that you put in your rhymes
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| I’m described as a, rhyme master
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| You need to take a rhyme baster, or get blasted to the wall
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| Like hieroglyphics we be doing you all
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| Twenty more milleniums before i fall
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| With the gritty foes pretending chumps ignoring my call
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| Cuz cas' will blast that ass, like gas ignited
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| Some have to master fast, at last you bite it
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| Uninvited
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| In my territory nobody denied it
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| You reply with the undecided
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| «i didn’t bite it»
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| Yeah right at shows
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| Your flow’s supposed to be your own, not known
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| Casual is on the Microphone
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| Calling out the wack emcees that i already blown
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| Should improve, my shit’s to move, i hit’s the groove correctly
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| So you best respect me
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| You know what i’m saying |