| I’m getting that feeling, I feel like ripping and killing
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| Until my system is filling, until my diction is illing
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| Until I drip penicillin, until I’m victim and villain
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| And vilified as a vigilante Avengers
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| The only verdict is vengeance, a vanguard
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| And you should know the inspiration it be V for Vendetta
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| I’m back and lethal as ever until my people eat better
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| There’ll be no peace in my letters
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| The speech a Desert Eagle, the beat’s a Beretta
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| I’m George Carlin balling both evil and clever
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| My terror vision is that religion and nepotism
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| Free separatism of church and state that’s Eso’s wisdom
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| We Wachovia, you can bank on it
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| I’m a nightcrawler, daywalker, bright scholar might holler
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| Old school alright ch’all-er
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| Fuck you white collar backstabbers, I stand over Anne Coulter
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| Sankofa take it back, Land Rover painted black
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| I got a son on the way, I’m knee-deep in this game
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| And I ain’t running away, I’m here to stay
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| Tomorrow’s never promised so you know we never fear today
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| What’s the verdict? |
| Vicodin mixed with VSOP swerving
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| Very smooth, very calm, very determined
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| Can’t tell the difference between a video vixen bitch or a virgin
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| Fuck a radio version, spitting from the curb and
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| I’m violent as the Vikings, swords, like Uma Thurman
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| Rode through your slum village with a .38
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| Popped you in your carrot top, have you leaking V8
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| The blood that pump through these veins
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| Is that of a veteran, he’s crazed
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| So vote for the villain, hop out the V-12
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| Rocking velour, bumping Louis Vuitton don while I’m robbing the store
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| Scrape off the VIN number, go and get my mask
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| Semi stashed, back to the lab, bangin' that Vinnie Paz
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| I put men to silence, don’t get tossed in a van over your little wallet
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| Face turning violet
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| Y’all some baby ballers, careful when you spend your dollars
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| I’m like a mix of Van Halen and Don Gotta
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| You better dead the violence before you feel big pain
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| Like Voletta Wallace, y’all gonna make me vomit
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| Y’all want violence or vengeance? |
| I was made to attack
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| Your remnants bear little resemblance
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| Like amendments after Patriot Act
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| Erase them like brittle descendants
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| I want the president’s widow collecting severance
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| In attendance as the window of his Yukon glass smash
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| Upon a bullet’s entrance, move on like veterans
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| Villainous half the time in Saudi villages
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| Mixed with that rage is violent volatile ways of victims, pillagers engagers
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| Trained killers is paid by the weight of the blood on their blade
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| I got pages of weapon-grade verses
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| I’m Vincent Van Gogh dash Rambo with desert ammo
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| With a band so Sid Vicious
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| We’re suspicious of laugh-track Vince Vaughan rap act cash rats
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| I’ll backtrack victory lap-style and blast that
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| Till you been gone and wipe the piece till the prints gone
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| Victor Vaughn you, if I’m picking on you guaranteed just sitting on you
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| upon your racks as I’m ripping all new tracks
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| Y’all rejoice cause my lines in rhymes will hit like Vader’s voice
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| You’re more James Earl Jones, I’m more James Joyce
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| Y’all can probably make the cover of the Village Voice
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| Little vegan with Vans on, the Volcom boys
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| Barely born in ‘88, the whole style is very fake
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| But you swear you’re straight cause you want some Voltron toys
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| Your hoodies are very vibrant, front like you kind of violent
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| Cultural vulture, Colt .45's convulse your vital organs and vibrate
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| Like an old pager
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| I remember vividly buying a tape of the Vapors
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| I’m vicious as Decepts, burying you six feet
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| Make you dance like Vance White to Slick Rick beats
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| Verbally Kurt Vonnegut, the verses I vomit are genius
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| I’m out of this world, a vocalist standing on Venus
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| (Vainglorious!)
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| V’s for Vendetta, y’all are vaginal
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| As men who drive Volkswagen Jettas
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| So while you’re lunching on your lavish vacation
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| We attacking where you staying in a V formation |