| Yea, uh, uh, what uh
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| Yea, uh, what
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| Demigodz (No doubt)
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| Science of the Bumrush, volume 2 (Volume 2)
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| Quarter’s in the meter (What'd you think?)
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| Un-stoppable, in-vincible (Uh, fuck that!)
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| Check, (yea) Apathetic and Celph Titled (What, sick on him)
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| We pimp it out like this…
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| Yo I slip bitches roofies, snatch Muslim kufis
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| Still steal from the store and sneak into the movies
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| Playin' old Nintendo on black and white TV’s
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| I got illegal cable and burn all of my CDs
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| Takin' toilet paper out of bathroom stalls
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| I’m hangin out over your house to make my long distance calls
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| Borrow kicks and gear and never give em back
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| Even if I like your song I’mma still say it’s wack
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| When I’m blowin' off steam I’m just plain fuckin' mean
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| Dissin' little kids to give em low self-esteem
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| Got quarters in the meter when I hit you better stay down
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| You’re gay now, and couldn’t bus' if your name was Greyhound
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| Yo, I’m known for pullin' heists, pawn shops to hold my ice
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| Shiny Glocks leave you shook like that bitch in Poltergeist
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| I’m makin' rap loot from rhymin' and makin' hits
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| While you be beggin' niggas on websites just to check your shit
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| In fact the same fist that I hit you up with
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| Was found inside your bitch’s clitoris after she sucked my dick
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| The Demigodz ain’t give a fuck if you lovin' it
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| My clique hold heat, like Wolfgang Puck oven mitts
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| I stay in New York where my fam keep it gully
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| And any cypher I’m in the other rappers are my understudies
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| Step outta line and I’ll draw you a chalk outline
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| I heard you did a joint with Puff Daddy and got out-shined
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| You just a gay rapper, lovin' what them fags do
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| You ain’t had pussy since pussy had you
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| My whole entourage is known to beat you in the head to death
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| Apathy and Celph Titled the underground Red and Meth
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| I got a white wifebeater, head wrap, and white sneakers
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| Uptown nikes they white, I’m the great white hype
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| Demigodz divin' in piles of diamonds
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| Brilliant, shimmerin', glimmerin', hustlin'
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| Swindlin', foes we’re injurin'
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| Fuck chokin' a chicken
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| I’ll choke a chicken for frontin' on the chocha
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| Chillin', chattin' with chicks on a Motorola
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| I keep my game tighter than pussy on junior high chicks
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| The fly shit that I spit got bitches ridin' my dick
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| Yo, it ain’t a question we representin' for derelicts
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| And lethal terrorists, my whole clique spittin' with arrogance
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| My rhyme caliber will melt through any teflon
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| And I got you wearing armor Fubu with an army suit on
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| Listen bucko
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| I’ll fire flame your frame to stucco
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| And put you in the crevices, plastered against the window
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| You can’t test this
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| I’ll ice grill you 'til you write your last will and testament
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| And throw your body in the wet cement
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| I give a groupie bitch much love even if you’re fat
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| I’ll serve her ass some good dick rockin' a chef hat
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| Niggas know that when I let the rocket launcher blow
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| It’s apocalypse and I’ll be stockin' shit like extra Glocks and clips
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| Celph Titled the true ghetto visionary
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| That flip necessary messages like high position secretaries
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| I make you see more black than a Million March in molasses
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| In a solar eclipse wearin Ray Charles' glasses
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| You’ll never do this shit right
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| I’ll put your Ampex in spandex and even then your tracks still won’t come out
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| tight
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| Stock market logic profit fattenin' my pockets
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| I’m relaxin' in the tropics with topless goddesses jockin' it
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| Now this is where it gets tricky
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| Chicks try to trick me but I never trick
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| Get head in the whip and then I split
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| Mack a better bitch
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| Bust nuts in guts like Beretta spit
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| Spit better than competitors spit but this is effortless
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| Drop gems since the beginnin' of time like Genesis
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| Got Jenna Jameson on the genitals, fuck a feminist
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| I support porn, and stripper hoes slippin' down poles
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| Lickin' chicken’s titties and tickle em where the dick goes
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| I blessed her
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| Ran up in the dorm to molest her
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| Fuckin' college bitches
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| Peace! |
| See you next semester, and I’m out |