| Yeah
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| Hold up, hey now, the beast in me
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| Is no longer sleeping, it wants to eat emcees
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| So I let him free, let him feed peacefully
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| Until he cease, now the beast must drop feces
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| But I never let it free fall, I catch it and spit it
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| I kick shit that blows whole districts into tidbits
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| With pen in fist I take tallies, of these scrimmages
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| Can’t call a game, my flavor wicked as witches is
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| The kid spits fuego sicker than syphilis
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| So sisters and brothers grab a shovel and start digging this
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| Matter fact, grab a Nikon and picture this
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| An icon with no assistance and no assist in this
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| Reminiscing to number one plus twenty-three
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| My days are sunny, prestige sweeter than honey bees
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| Waters are muddy, I’m coming, running from nothing B
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| Now I’m fucking muffin, motherfuckers ain’t touching me
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| Shit |