| Detroit listeners out there
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| You’d better be sure to stop by at the Galaxy Club
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| Where there’s a freestyle, super fresh contest going on tonight
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| If you got the skills you better get yout hip-hop ass on down here
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| We got DJ Clueless on the wheels of steel
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| Mortification is my next demonstration
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| I’d ask you for a lite pumpin' gas at the station
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| Here’s my situtation
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| I hate many people
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| So I hear no see no say no evil
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| Just like Knieval
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| Leave you headless bloody mess
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| Like you was ridin' a Ducati
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| Ladidadi broke every bone in your body I’m not sorry
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| I’d probely murder you
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| Voices tellin' me do what he say
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| Kill a DJ
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| Fuck what he play
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| Mayday Mayday
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| BOOM! |
| BOOM!
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| Blood’s all over the room
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| I fucked yo bitch
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| Like a witch with a broom
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| Doom’s
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| Day
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| Murderers say
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| All y’all must pay when the buckshot’s spray
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| Who wants the challenge me
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| Grab the mic and bust yo raps
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| But then I’m just gonna grab my strap
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| And just commence to bustin' caps
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| Leaving bodies piled up
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| In freestyle clubs (fuck)
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| You better make room
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| BOOM like what
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| WHAT! |
| y’all make room!
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| When we show up
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| BOOM BOOM BOOM
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| WHAT!
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| Killaz run up in this bitch
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| Start bustin' off shots
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| Hittin literballs, lazer lights and people on the top
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| I’m looking for the dj
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| Cuz he don’t see it my way
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| I’m bout 2 blow 'em out his head
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| ??? |
| some A.B.K
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| I’m like a molitov cocktail
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| Breakin' on your wall
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| I’m setting shit off
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| I blow your lid off
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| Your body falls
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| You don’t need aluminoliam
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| Leavin' blood everywhere
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| And I’m aiming for the head n hair of everybody their
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| I’m like a grasshopper
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| Quick to jump I’m spreading my wings
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| You say the wicked shit will die
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| I say you faggots seeing things
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| And all you bitches know I’m gangsta
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| Don’t ask me to dance
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| I might straight panic pull the gat
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| And blow your pussy out your pants
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| It’s the wicked shit It’s E n J
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| It’s hotter than Hell
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| And every Devil’s Night we hunt them down
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| And slaughter D-12
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| I take the moosegun and shut your blood and blow it out your back
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| Turning face to camera
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| Where your hatchets at
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| Throw 'em up y’all
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| Make room
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| Guess who comin in
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| Grab my gun again
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| They told me he was one of them
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| So I done him in
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| A killers on the hunt again
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| Smoke my blunt again
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| Fatality finished him I win again
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| Repentance my vengance
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| So I’m not sentanced a hundred years
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| It’s burning my ears and blood is mixed with my tears fears
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| My styles get rid of theres
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| Drive-bys in wheelchairs
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| All you see is smoke in the air
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| Cuz we don’t care |