| Start up the disc, suicide, cut up your wrist
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| Like a cheap watch, your weed spot something like this
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| Local dime bags from some dirty nickel dime slicks
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| Dice shook with shady hands, why gamble that risk?
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| Dealing feces go, go examine that shit
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| Like man, you are sick, but you are not as sick as the niche
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| Of these niggas not even quarters but dying to get rich
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| Will lie to their click, cheat, steal to survive in this bitch
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| Then fight with their chick, the same time deny he a snitch
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| The lie on his dick, but ain’t nobody buying that shit
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| They just waiting to find him driving when they ride in they whip
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| Clyde with the dip, them ballers gonna fly when they hit
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| Defy gravity, super conductor from the slip
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| They all mad at me, ain’t nothing y’all do from the rip
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| It’s all strategy, you need a vacation then trip
|
| Gangrene
|
| Fuck y’all doing? |
| It’s only right that I address this
|
| Why ask what? |
| Why ask what?
|
| Existentialist in my temple
|
| I shook the world with Etch-a-Sketch force, then sketched a masterpiece with a
|
| pencil
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| That’s how lead fires, ink that black, crispy outlines
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| UFO, ancient aliens, is how their head flies
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| With my red eyes, heavy squinting just to let light in
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| Learn the handshake, step right in
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| ATF, DEA wanna check my pen
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| It can stick a fiend’s heart and jump start adrenaline
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| At minimum it’s a spark, backyard like a national park
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| Animal sightings, heavy lighting but the flashes are dark
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| Everyone’s an expert until the classes start
|
| Ask them who the best is then watch the clashes start
|
| I’ll smack animated stars out your head
|
| With the Shaka Zulu, Sun Tzu strategy one two
|
| Boom bip, rescue the princess and jump the broomstick
|
| Lunatic, on that dark side of the moon shit
|
| Fuck y’all doing? |
| It’s only right that I address this
|
| Why ask what? |
| Why ask what?
|
| Spray words and let the krylon drip
|
| Crowd surfing, bitches tugging on my jersey made the nylon rip
|
| Dance over rhythms like a fly on shit
|
| Keep the yarmulke diagonal, play the avenue
|
| Real verse like a 48 bar acapella feature from Maganoo with Timbo on a bow flex
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| The spliff that I finesse resemble Kotex
|
| Hold down the west Ferraris jet
|
| My vision is slightly tinted due to the lens on the Cartie specs
|
| ODB face, elephant briefcase
|
| Sweepstakes, I’m on the grill like Geno with the cheesesteaks
|
| Stay with a pigeon like reed space, cooking the freebase
|
| Hard to get it off my clothes, take my jacket to the laundromat
|
| It still leaves a discrete trace
|
| Camaro got metallic windows, leather finish without a pimple
|
| Bitches swanging off the phallic symbol
|
| Lick off a shot through the roof, blow out his shingle, peel off bumping «Latin Lingo»
|
| Fuck y’all doing? |
| It’s only right that I address this
|
| Why ask what? |
| Why ask what?
|
| Are you number one? |
| Depends who you asking
|
| Who, who, who? |
| That’s for owls in the Aspens
|
| Why do rappers rap in past tense? |
| It’s veteran
|
| They think De La Soul and David Letterman
|
| That wasn’t fact checked but I go off
|
| Got a fat check, where’s deep end? |
| And dove off
|
| Weekends were… down by the beaches blurred
|
| They come and go, but you could never put a leash on a bird
|
| You never know if you never go out of the zone where you comfortable
|
| Where you come from?
|
| I sing the role of the unsung out the dungeons of rap
|
| Where cats don’t make it back and run from
|
| I got a gun and arose to the world
|
| I come undone, shooting all under the Sun
|
| I’m gassing, stingers, bulletproof wallets
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| Money on top of my heart if they want it |