| I told the skrilla guerilla never shave your back
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| Cause the god say grizzly in this game of rap
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| Aim the gat, point it at your left nipple for shizzle
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| Bring the beef here, I handle it to the gristle
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| Launch a missile
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| That’s what I’m known for
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| Hand grenades and napalm cords
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| Lay you flat, run your ass over with lawn movers
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| Your soft rap, I ain’t feelin' that
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| I treat your wig like a decal and peel your cap
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| Your little demo makin' niggas wish you could be me
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| I’ll turn your face blue
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| Lookin' like the bottom of your CD
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| See me?
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| I got chainsaws with remote controls
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| Chase you down the block, chop your head down to provolone
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| Rip off the T.V. antenna, while you watchin' Opera
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| Stab your chest and leave more holes than Caddyshack gophers
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| Straight out of motherfuckin' Tampa like the Devil Rays
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| Took a trip to Hell and snatched the chicken off the Devil’s plate |