| I push my levels to zero with distortin
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| Boost two compression enhancers the message I’m recordin
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| Live from California, warnin night to mornin
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| The illest squad this side of Earth is now formin
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| Itself into a whirlwind, spin pattern the outcome
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| Be tragic, tell me what you want I still doubt them
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| I hit up the beat unique
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| For seven-eighths I levitate, hit save not delete
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| You could get in the game, but who’s ahead in the race?
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| To a duststorm, when it clears there’s no trace
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| Of where I was, was not, or how I got there
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| The image you recall so clear has disappeared
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| Yeah. |
| Since most kids are spoiled these days, we let 'em have it.
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| Yo. |
| Yo I make moves and get my passport decorated
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| I keep my business and my personal seperated
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| From Cali to Philly to the Circus of Picadilly
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| This verse is soundkillin — rehearsed — do your research
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| Walk 'til my feet hurt, smoke 'til the weed hurt
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| Challenge this, you know the Alchemist make the beat work
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| Send a hot flash of fever through your speaker
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| Then after the heat bring chills like deep freezers
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| Live or tv, whether tape or cd Twelve inch, Liquid Audio or mp3
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| Fuck the format, they askin where the |