| It’s time to exercise the bean under my du-rag
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| The cerebrum assassin I blast you two and your crew back
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| The boom bap disassembles you and your optical shaft
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| Shattering up the 20/20 cause a plentiful crash
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| Trash the stone, metal maneuver malicious murder
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| I’m good with my M’s, you good at flipping Mickey-D burgers
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| Master the coy, don’t matter if you tapped to the boys
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| And they tuned to the noise of frequencies, fr-freakin they broads
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| They kicked in the doors and exerted, that dime him out, torturous
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| Model 16 in the spleen now he swinging like a swordsman
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| Wind how I blend like alloy, binding the instrumental
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| More like Akuma’s teleportation move Ashura Senkuu
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| Whoo, whoo
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| Good like what we rolling that fire the piffy stick lit
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| And no you cannot get in this you foreign as Hugo Stiglitz
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| I’m with my people, my nigga, just easy breathe it
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| As we dig a little deeper most people won’t wanna bother it, so
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| Fuck what they thinking, I’m conversing with my man and them
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| Plotting to hatch a plan to mishandle these drum patterings
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| Spark it and walk on Saturn’s Rings, is bananas niggas rapping be stuck on
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| standard
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| Bender shit, hatchet Apache chief (hooked)
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| I’m dopamine green, tongue, is a quarter coca leaf
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| Vocally bust a pipe and place a fetus in your speaker piece
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| And with this pen I slay a beast
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| Woke up feeling blessed shit
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| I’m just mapping out this quest to be a tribe called next
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| My nigga I’m good
|
| Like your average orange Faygo
|
| Right out the deep freezer on a ninety three degree day
|
| Old heatwave so turn it up get hotter let it bang
|
| Sip on some crispy, grab my licky-licky let it hang
|
| My nigga I’m good
|
| Like your average orange Faygo
|
| Right out the deep freezer on a ninety three degree day
|
| Old heatwave so turn it up get hotter let it bang
|
| Sip on some crispy, grab my licky-licky let it hang
|
| You’re just in time for the rhyme scheme revolutionist
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| Pugilist, pedal rhetoric, ruthless shit from the euphemist
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| Passing on aggression, recipient of the blessing
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| Of tools to cut the head off the legacy of any rapper who steps in
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| Follow, I’m Achilles storming the beach, preaching immortality to my peeps
|
| Decapitating the statue of Apollo rise for the Titan
|
| Poseidon of this rap reservoir that you reside in
|
| Ultimate spazzin' if there’s a title for lyricism I’m Ultimo Dragon
|
| Double my body weight in championship belts and carry them no problem
|
| Welcome to the ant colony of rhyming where we carry fifty times our body weight
|
| while chasing dollars
|
| Sgt. |
| Slaughter the author, the cobra clutch calligraphy got you gasping for air
|
| while you nodding your head vividly
|
| The quasar quotables, on a roll and I can’t stop like Louis Mendoza you
|
| standing in the way of the knuckle puck
|
| Punctuality breaking holes in this fallacy with them Fat raps
|
| Goldberg, you just Julie «The Cat» Gaffney
|
| My nigga I’m good
|
| Like your average orange Faygo
|
| Right out the deep freezer on a ninety three degree day
|
| Old heatwave so turn it up get hotter let it bang
|
| Sip on some crispy, grab my licky-licky let it hang
|
| My nigga I’m good
|
| Like your average orange Faygo
|
| Right out the deep freezer on a ninety three degree day
|
| Old heatwave so turn it up get hotter let it bang
|
| Sip on some crispy, grab my licky-licky let it hang |