| Sometimes I get so wild
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| I blow up (POW)
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| Here I come now
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| Check out the new style
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| Oh my god child
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| Here comes the word dripper
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| Word to black tripper
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| Lyrical whipper slicker nigga
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| Case closed like a zipper
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| I’ll flip ya with the style on the mic
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| From the arm at PM dawn
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| Next plan is hype
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| So I excite to hold tight
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| The underground sounds
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| Jus got off Jacobs ladder
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| (So won’t you let me come down)
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| Let me come down I’ll kill someone
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| With the gats son at least some men are in
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| Some say I’m awesome
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| Jus like John I got the whole Single
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| -ton on your back
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| An' its like that
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| So I drive girls crazy
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| Ask Mrs. Daisy
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| Jump up an praise me
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| Nobody can phase me
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| I amaze me cuz yo my
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| Tracks got the boomers
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| Kickin' the shit that
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| Make ya back flip outcha bloomers
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| I’ll murder him
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| I’ll murder them
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| Put me on the track
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| For black I’ll kill them
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| (Y-Tee/Big Light)
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| Rudeboy I sting and a badboy I shock
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| Inside the clip man qwe load up the Glock
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| On shot tocks so we hafta bust shot
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| Start from the bottom make we rise to the top
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| (Bae-B-Face Kaos/Lee Majors)
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| I ROCK
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| Hip hop the best G
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| I snipe just like wesley
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| Crunch like nestle
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| Tell me who’s the best G
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| Bush Babee bad man
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| I’ll flip the rap
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| Got the hand on the gat
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| Plus I’m on the attack
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| Pon de attack, it goes pon de attack
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| (Mr. Man)
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| Ya just can’t stop
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| The rhymantically dreadified
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| Lyrically ill
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| Booger pickin'
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| Butt scrathin'
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| Heads a flyin, the illest
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| Or should I say
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| The most illified
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| Type of hyperactive
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| Lyricalmatical
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| Boombastically bonified
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| Hyper technical
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| Unforgattable
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| Crazy sweatable
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| Individual
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| Quick to put up a battle
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| Rowdy, rapper goes bazootey
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| Baggin' up the goodies
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| The rough rasta bootey
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| Mr. man is attackin
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| That’s when I get conniving
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| So hold your freaking horses
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| The boss is arriving
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| I gave a «wussup» like Martin
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| Chill kid I’m startin'
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| I beg your pardon
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| Got it locked like a warden
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| Applaudin' cuz I got the illified flow
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| Ya know the flow
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| Yo Mr. Man steal the show
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| Hecka-hecka-heck yeah
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| Just cuz I’m the lyrical master blaster
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| Capitol-rapitol M/R/M/A/N
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| So I rhyme faster than ya moms
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| Could make a batch of big brown booger snacks
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| When I Doodle-da-doot-doot-doot ATTACK
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| (Y-Tee/Big Light)
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| Pon de attacka break a DJ offa his spot
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| But if a DJ wan fe disc jock fe come up on top
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| Pon de attack break a DJ offa his spot
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| But if a DJ wan fe disc jock fe come up on
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| No me says break a leg a leg an dis boy can’t jump
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| Because fe line shoulda drop an' rise to the top
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| An' lissen a' rudebwoy know yall can’t stop
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| Buck a bust those shot a try they move dey ass
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| An' but dem wrote dem
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| Cuz when dey can not
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| So nigga fling two thing
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| So bucks those shot
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| Some brand new tune
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| An' put dey pon top
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| Because me rough, me tough
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| Me light, me black
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| Me charm, me thin
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| Me sting, me shot
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| Me quick, no false
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| Me rap, me track
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| Me leave em on top a dey roof an make dey can’t come back
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| An' if a DJ ever test a might to chop dem foot
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| Mic take one, two
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| An' bombed on dey squad
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| An' buck a real shot
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| When me tryfe on dey track
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| Buss some buss some
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| An' me goes to have fun
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| An' lissen to bush babbes cuz we run things hard too |