| Last man standing, like Bruce Willis, about to kill with this
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| Niggas feel this, the masters of realness
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| In your town to get down, so give your man a pound
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| Let him know what’s goin down, take a pull and hold it now
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| Back to matters we call the rhyme data
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| Home run batter, shuttin down your chitter chatter
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| So kill the he say she say bust the replay
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| Hit Squad, Def Squad, stay busy like the freeway
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| Dig this, in the field of rap, I pull rank
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| Sets it Off like Vivica Fox and La' robbin banks
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| What you think? |
| On the roof I work, smokin dank
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| Puffin Bone-Thugs and the boombox crank
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| Live in color, I represent, for the hardcore brother
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| Who pack Lethal Weapons, without Dan Glover
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| And still we achieve the great, those who try
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| To fade us get clowned, plus beat down, so
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| Let’s get up, let’s get down
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| Roll with the hardcore funk, the hardcore sound
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| Let’s get wit this, mackadocious funk material
|
| . |
| It’s been a long time, we shouldn’t have left you
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| Aiyyo the rhymes I recite, airtight, like a submarine
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| Hip-Hop fiends, like a Jones, for nicotine
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| Of tobacco so I can’t slack yo
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| Got the knack though, bring it live and that’s a fact yo
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| Niggas buggin out, askin when we comin out
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| Samps is runnin out, need new shit to talk about
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| How you doin (where you been) in the biz
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| Sittin on chrome, back to set trends
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| Well it’s the rappin Lex Luthor, step to me I’ll do ya
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| Send you back to the future — he for real man? |
| HELL YEAH
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| I don’t care, I gets it on anywhere
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| From the streets of East New York, to the streets of Bel Air
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| First things first, I come to work with mad equipment
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| To do y’all, in the U-Haul and the side biscuit
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| My persona, got suburban kids
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| Bangin their heads up in the gym like Nirvana
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| Back to take mine, like Jordan, goin baseline
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| Create rhyme, break spines, when it’s showtime
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| Niggas wanna doubt me, talk about P
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| No slouch B, cause off the meter’s how my clout be
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| Indeed, I’m amazing when I?
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| Got the crowd doin shit by remote control
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| Comin high powered, what’s the discrepency coward?
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| Dunk on your head, like Juwan Howard |