| I go wild as I sip from a cold Löwenbräu
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| Set up rhymes like fire to gunpowder
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| Boom, did the bassline crank
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| From being rated R, from being top rank
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| I’m hard like an erection
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| Phrases might get too tough to break down in sections
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| So I grab a pen and pad, I’m back
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| To make a killer, similar to a backstab
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| Don’t arrest me, arrest my brain, it’s insane
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| If I’m booty, then I’ve been framed
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| By an MC, who can’t be the R-E-D
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| Fuck with me, you’ll get slapped up and capped up easy
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| By me and a tre-eight, pistol, so vacate the premises
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| Or ask Mayday, Mayday
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| For H-E-L-P, brothers tell me
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| I’m electrifyin', similar to rail three
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| I don’t brag and boast but smash and roast
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| MC’s wit degrees from here to the West Coast
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| I’m miracle, with no abrakadaba
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| Piece of membranes will smash like crackers
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| Were they Ritz, Saltine, or Town House
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| None of the above get caught with the roundhouse
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| Kick, blackflip, semifull
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| My vocal chord prove my pull ain’t bull
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| I’m down with the Squad, no more than four to five brothers
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| Six or more, you seen got smothered
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| By a fist of fury, next is the verdict
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| Let’s hear it from the jury
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| Brothers on my jock for the way I hold a piece of steel (4x)
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| Say it loud! |
| (4x)
|
| So whatcha sayin'?
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| I’m a nightmare to rappers, terror to an MC
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| Cold wreck the nigga with the help of E-D
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| Aggravation, don’t need it, so get off my dick
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| Master of disaster, no time for flicks
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| Straight up b-boy, Real McCoy like Bruce Leroy
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| Strap the bozack when I’m stabbin' a skeezoid
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| Gangsta rap, it’s Daddy Mack with a bozack
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| Roy the funk punk pumps skunk like a smokestack
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| So swing low and lick up balls
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| I’m like Schwarzenegger, correcting shit in Total Re-
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| Call up E-D and the posse that’s ten deep
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| To wax a sucker nigga booty rappin' MC
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| So step off, 'cause you gets no props
|
| So stick the fork in him, Redman, (why?), 'cause he’s done
|
| Brothers on my jock for the way I hold a piece of steel (4x)
|
| Say it loud! |
| (4x)
|
| So whatcha sayin'?
|
| I’m E-D, I belong wit the A-Team
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| A one man wreckin' machine, by all means
|
| Necessary, I destroyed on contact
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| No fear, of gettin' killed 'cause I’m strapped
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| The Hit Squad’s deep, makin' it sweet
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| To creep, on my crew so you don’t sleep
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| My mic is caffeine, similar to Maxwell
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| Making it smooth for me, yes, to wax well
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| And you might get scared and spark a stove
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| 'Cause I pack steel but Hold On like En Vogue
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| My swiftness, I got a gift not for Christmas
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| God bless, mmm-hmm, can I get a witness?
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| I’m fresh like a bag of Chips Ahoy
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| No toy, I’m a hardcore b-boy
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| Once again, I quote, I’m danger
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| I smoked Smokey the Bear and killed the forest ranger
|
| Poof, the fire’s out and I’m gone
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| Peace to Mandela and Farrakhan
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| Brothers on my jock for the way I hold a piece of steel (4x)
|
| Say it loud! |
| (4x)
|
| So whatcha sayin'? |