| You puny protozoa, you’re so minute you didn’t know the
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| Gang has been watchin but instead of just squashin you
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| I’m scoopin you up out of the muck you wallow in like a cheif chemist, other scientists are followin
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| Plannin to examine you, on a petrie dish
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| Sticking you and frickin you, just a teenie bit
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| I’m clever, with science, but never relyin
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| on false words from cowards who forever be tryin
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| Insistin they come off, I let 'em get some off
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| Then come back wit drum tracks, their ears could get numb off
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| Blockbustin, like makin love, I’ll never stop thrustin
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| into your system, so just listen
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| I’m like a neurosurgeon, operatin wit a purer version
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| I write prescriptions, of words that fit in The thought gets prescribed, as I kick it live
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| Cause it’s more that a style, it’s conceptual genius
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| My effect on the scene is, to project that I mean this
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| You deadbeat, wait until you see my next feat
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| I get respect for the rep when I speak
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| Check the technique
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| Check the technique. |
| (3X)
|
| Check the technique and see if you can follow it
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| I’m rushin you like a defensive end as I recommend
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| that you comprehend, I could stomp you in a battle, contest, or war, what will occur
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| will be the forfeiture, of your immature
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| insecure for sure, meek, weak visions of grandeur
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| To rudely awaken you, and then’ll be breakin you
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| Taxin without askin and trackin and snakin you
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| Makin you succumb to the drums of GangStarr
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| By far we are, truly gifted ones son
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| But if you were to speculate or estimate us losin
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| you’ll be dyin, tryin to face the fate of your delusions
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| Cause miscalculation, is all you’re statin
|
| So I’m chumpin, puntin punks just like footballs
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| Cause I wanna put y’all, back in the messhall
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| to clean up the slop, and stop all the bullcrap
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| Your rap’s crazy wack, so don’t try to pull that
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| You’re lackin the vernacular, I’m slappin ya and cappin ya and closin your jaw, cause you can’t mess with GangStarr
|
| The Guru and Premier always dope with the blessed beats
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| Dance your ass off Hobbes, check the technique
|
| Check the technique. |
| (4X)
|
| Bon voyage, Sayanora, Arriva derci
|
| Your ass gets busted doodoo mustard, you tried to work me You irked me — because you copy and falsify
|
| And I don’t care how many step up, cause you all can try
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| to wish and fish for a style, here’s a fishin rod
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| These rhymes are hittin hard, constantly I’m gettin large
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| Inevitably, I readily kick a slew
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| of lyrics so deep, so don’t sleep, but just peep me Puttin methods on records and spinning for each millisecond
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| 33 RPM’s displays the art of men
|
| And as my rhymin builds you see my time it’s chill
|
| .and then I look upon weak ones
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| I’m teachin each one so they become redone
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| Essays are relayed to twist you up like French braids
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| or tied up like corn braids, cause I got a strong way
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| Force like police raids to never be delayed
|
| I once was the least paid but I made the grade
|
| Cause this ain’t a slave sale and I ain’t the same stale
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| rapper, no, I’m not a phony microphonist wit no blaster
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| No type of real appeal or real — talent
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| And it makes me violent man
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| To see all of these peewee bee MC wannabees
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| makin G’s for some dumb companies
|
| and lots of money but no idea what is rap and what is dope
|
| So check out what the Guru wrote
|
| Cause I will prevail, give you tales as I unveil
|
| Have enough braincells so I can stay paid well
|
| Now I’m in the driver’s seat, and rockin the liver beats
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| Bouncin and boomin and blastin you to the next seat
|
| Shiek and unique with lots of kick like a cleat
|
| Check the technique
|
| (. chief unique technique.)
|
| (. chief unique technique.)
|
| Check the technique. |
| (3X)
|
| Check the technique and see if you can follow it |