| Hah!
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| My momma said back when I was born
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| That you was warned, so now your ass gets torn
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| (Wake it up Mack)
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| My style is bonafide
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| Fortified on my bad side, an MC on a high
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| Now we about to set this off
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| Bass and funk rattlin (one two) send MC’s up North
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| I never had to fight with the mic
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| I make the funk so dynamite
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| So parasite MC’s might wanna bite
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| Welcome to 1994 (welcome) beats that thump
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| Rhymes that’s bumpin now at your backdoor
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| Never figured Mack got funk for days (what)
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| When «Project: Funk Da World» brought the brand new craze
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| (wake it up)
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| And MC’s can’t get one line
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| When the genuine take out deep max on your mind
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| I’mma hit you with the boom pow
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| Bolder than Moscow, MC’s your judgment’s now
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| Here it comes
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| MC’s. |
| your judgment is. |
| now (now MC’s)
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| MC’s your judgment day is now (it's time, here it comes)
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| MC’s. |
| your judgment is. |
| (hahhh) now
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| As we get down — MC’s your judgment day is now
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| Here it comes, boyeee
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| Here comes the one they call King MC
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| If you’re tired of those phony fake rhymes that be (fake)
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| I’m back with this deeper than Minds of Minolta
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| Preachin better than preacher up on an altar
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| (Amen boy)
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| I feel that I have pardoned, pardoned
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| No need for bad grammar startin in my MC garden
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| (chomp chomp)
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| And I’mma kinda hungry tonight
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| So I pulls out the ground a fat rhyme to recite
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| I don’t means to boast but the most is me your host
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| On post, kickin flav til they ghost (ghost)
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| Craig Mack is here to stay
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| Rugged as a mountain bike on MC judgment day
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| (go ahead)
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| From now until the Earth’s gone
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| In the chess game of rap, MC’s ain’t nothin but a pawn
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| (your move)
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| As the rap romps through your town (through your town)
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| And MC’s around, time to put your panties down (put it down)
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| MC’s. |
| your judgment is. |
| now (it's time)
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| MC’s your judgement is now (MC's, check your clock, it’s on)
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| MC’s (MC's) your judgment is. |
| (hahhh) now (Mack the dope)
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| MC’s your judgment day is now (with the flav, gettin down)
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| It was a rumble tumble, I put the bee inside the bumble
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| Kickin wicked type of hyper, won’t never fumble (ahh)
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| I float like a tugboat do
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| Watch the virus, Mack the dope, start affectin you
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| Is rap real? |
| You can’t deal, what’s the matter?
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| The badder the Don Dadda is still gettin fatter
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| You be lovin how it sound and shit
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| And have you dance when I battle for the sponsorin
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| And you can thank Bad Boy for that
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| A technique for layin MC’s on the mat
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| Scat, scoot, pussy couldn’t make a louder hoop
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| When I pollute, the world with funk to the roof
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| Mad rhymes we bust, in God we trust
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| And MC’s don’t discuss when ya turn back to dust
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| (Ashes to ashes)
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| Mark the year, 1994. when MC’s hit the floor
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| MC’s. |
| your judgment is. |
| (hahhh) now
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| MC’s your judgment is now (Final Call, MC’s, we get down)
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| MC’s. |
| your judgment is. |
| (here comes the Mack) now
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| (to clean house) MC’s your judgment day is now, boyeee
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| (Here it comes boyee, it’s time, hahhh. ahahHHHHH, boyeee) |