| I got the concrete under my feet
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| I got the shotty right next to my body
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| I got the hood notes so street get your float on
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| I got the ease back style, watch out what I’m typin
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| Noise, noise, noise, noise (x4)
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| To summarize a lick at the man with the stick
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| Come strategy fight act like new york
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| Pieces can squeeze deep of the way
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| Why g mayors sonnies dis it
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| We latitude sway we determine the prey
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| He swings the whole sphere in original
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| Scare steelo’s weak soul scream and a whisper
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| Blow the house right over black people grow
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| We make
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| Noise, noise, noise, noise (x2)
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| I got the buck wild style that make you get hyper
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| I got the knowledge of god, sevens all in my cipher
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| I got the new york hip hop so it goes on and on
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| Use my mind, pen and paper then the rhymes is not
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| Mind held down well so you can’t touch it
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| When I discharge fools pray for peace
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| Beats all on my back it’s just like that in Brooklyn
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| So I vibrate and shake em off like fleas
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| Electromagnetic radiation, radio waves
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| Changing frequency
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| Here in NYC we get busy
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| Raps and peas, street smarts, no college degrees
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| Too many degrees the freeze not fakin
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| Fake snakes are bacon, honeys hips are shakin
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| It ain’t no joke so get your boys
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| This afu! |
| 'Ru what we do?
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| We make
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| Noise, noise, noise, noise (x2)
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| I got the power for twenty four hours
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| I got the love pump, Brooklyn don’t front
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| I got the fly joints packed, like that, like that
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| I got the slow motion got my float, got my clique
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| I gets live when I feel the positive vibe, uh
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| The seven gets eleven when I’m filled with the vibes
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| Now i’m flyin high through the seventh dimension
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| As I travel uptown to get a piece of the action
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| Then I’m maxin with the actual facts men
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| As we relax to a black ceaser flick and third vision
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| My movements is precision, supreme mathematician
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| Indeed I’m true and livin when I’m givin
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| What?
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| That
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| Noise, noise, noise, noise (x4)
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| Brothers with the blowouts develop your envelopes
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| Stamp it, amp it, raise your razor blade
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| Found downtown in the land of crooks
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| My pops say books, I say sneaks and name buckles
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| Pigs say «Freeze boy,» shit, I just chuckles
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| Fence alley
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| Walkin by them fronts from my jip in the flatty
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| Everthing cherry cause george just stole a caddy
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| Who bust dex was the question next
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| Dres said
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| Northbound
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| Then he sipped his becks
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| Then he clipped his vex, display the context
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| Beep code, street clothes and all the nose candy
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| Hotter microphone, heater the chrome jammy
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| My family consists one honey
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| Comrades, ghetto streets, more gods than greeks
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| The seven twos eleven till death toy
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| Now you understand what I’m talking about
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| Now you understand what my walk is about
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| Now you understand what New York is about
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| We make
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| Noise, noise, noise, noise
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| It’s just
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| Noise, noise, noise, noise (x4)
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| They keep lying together like fingers on the can
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| No outsiders ever, never |