| They be like «yo, how did he get that flow?»
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| Overly fresh like, nice hydro
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| Don’t hope for the best, I kill those shows
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| Roll home to the wife have a zoot and a roast
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| Hotel always try kick me out but I coast
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| Looking bare way through the eyes of a ghost
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| Shit gets tricky and still, I hope, swing with a lyric
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| That heated her up like pow (pow)
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| If you really wanna' know how (how)
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| I got the style so wow (wow)
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| Still got an inner child but we’ve grown from Boyz To Men
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| I write this shit here with a poison pen
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| I won’t stop these sends 'til the Boydem get destroyed again
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| To try coin the term they’re getting merked by the first, third degree burns
|
| In a hearse with the words in the dirt’s where they lurk
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| Wanna see my ID when I search, wanna bun my high diesel with my G’s on the curb
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| Fans passed it like «jheeze (jheeze), that’s Flips with the cheese (cheese)»
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| Oh my word it stunk so much, got 'em flying with the birds
|
| No denying that my words are in line with the storm, that’s third
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| I’m first in the race with a pace that merks
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| Make clubs bounce like Kelly with a perm
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| Stash that hash in an alley like… ash in a urn, gotta make that
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| Cash gotta burn it, couldn’t give a fuck right now if I got no permit
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| I’m out here perfecting my skills as a wordsmith
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| Man stay chill like tip of the iceberg, I build my piff and burn it
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| I’m going so rago, blowing up like ammo
|
| Bunning crow 'till I feel it in my bone marrow
|
| Staying fly like arrows, but hiding in the shadows
|
| Mind resides in a timeless place beyond the gallows
|
| I’m going so rago, blowing up like ammo
|
| Bunning crow 'till I feel it in my bone marrow
|
| Staying fly like arrows, but hiding in the shadows
|
| Mind resides in a timeless place beyond the gallows
|
| Check
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| Slapping a brother upon the back of the head if he try address me wrong
|
| And I best be strong
|
| If a man handle him and then that’s Anne Boleyn
|
| In fact that’s execution from a standing swing
|
| And as a matter of fact, I wouldn’t stand by him, or you get hit
|
| With a skull on a random ting, I see the minimum amount of animation
|
| Given to a situation, now a brother’s gonna handle it
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| And if I bounce and a brother try stand and swing
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| I won’t pip to resort to a strangling
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| Like damn
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| Wiz you be going ham on him, might pork that beat like Cameron
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| And the day you see me flop in a diss be the day Fliptrix eat ham again
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| And the day you see Flip flop in a diss be the day feet don’t meet sand again
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| (Pow, pow), really though, really though… I got the key, key to the citadel
|
| I got a E, vitamins, minerals I’m on the beat
|
| Listen and hear me though really though, really though
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| I’m on a roll, look how they’re flocking to see me, though
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| Really though I got the world, world in my palm why you try snatch it
|
| Sick back and chill it out, here we go innero in Wizzy combo, Wizzy galore
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| Lyrical killer, now is it a will, Wizzy on court, Wizzy implores
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| Them mandem are similar, I’m on the ball you’re not at all
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| I’m testing problems that you couldn’t figure out
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| Can’t figaro, du figaro
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| None of your content ain’t nothing to sing about
|
| I’m going so rago, blowing up like ammo
|
| Bunning crow 'till I feel it in my bone marrow
|
| Staying fly like arrows, but hiding in the shadows
|
| Mind resides in a timeless place beyond the gallows
|
| I’m going so rago, blowing up like ammo
|
| Bunning crow 'till I feel it in my bone marrow
|
| Staying fly like arrows, but hiding in the shadows
|
| Mind resides in a timeless place beyond the gallows |