| Rhymes take flight, gods get tight, it’s serious
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| («You know and I know»)
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| Rhymes take flight, gods get tight, it’s serious
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| («Nigga better bang»)
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| Rhymes take flight, gods get tight, it’s serious
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| («Then I’m runnin' through the spot»)
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| Rhymes take flight, gods get tight, it’s serious
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| («However it’s gon' go, it’s gon' be that»)
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| One in the spiritual, three in the physical
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| OG soul like Smokey and the Miracles
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| Grimy and lyrical—you want it? |
| Here it go
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| We be in spots where bitch niggas fear to go
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| Abrasive, still smack faces
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| Grab you by your neck, smash your head in the basement
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| Godly, still controllin' the square
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| You the competition? |
| Get the fuck outta here
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| We got the safeties and the locks off just in case it jump off
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| Count to three, only these niggas dump off
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| For the love of hip-hop, what’s it worth?
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| For the pain of hip-hop, we bringin' the hurt
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| Fake niggas, we put in the dirt
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| Silly rap nigga wearin' a skirt
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| We unbeatable, don’t even try
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| Fuck around, lay around, do or die
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| It’s the militia
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| Rhymes take flight, gods get tight, it’s serious
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| («However it’s gon' go, it’s gon' be that»)
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| Rhymes take flight, gods get tight, it’s serious
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| («It's the militia») («It's the real»)
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| Let’s see if you can rap and step with this production
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| I never left, plus I kept me somethin'
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| That I could use on these MC’s that kept frontin'
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| They watched me unload and explode, I kept dumpin'
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| The Black Bruno, with the Mack uno uno
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| Crush you like a Black sumo, I’m back, you know
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| The man of the hour, I’m the man of the year
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| Make room and understand I’m here
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| Hell, my clientele is the most regal
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| I crush brain cells, my name rings bells to most people
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| You broke the rules, so I’ma have to get at you
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| Pussy, you’re pitiful, your crew can catch a clip or two
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| Always the swiftest, you, watch the way I lift his jewels
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| He’s woozy, excuse me while I rip this dude
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| I light a Dutch while you get touched with ease
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| And your chick steady fallin' in love with me
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| Rhymes take flight, gods get tight, it’s serious
|
| («However it’s gon' go, it’s gon' be that»)
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| Rhymes take flight, gods get tight, it’s serious
|
| («It's the militia»)
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| Raw
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| Yo, it’s the gang Gang Starr across my chest
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| On Gu' and them, I never let Solar rest
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| Me robbin' them rappers that’s braggin'
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| The pain is of Attica stabbin' you
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| Leakin' from holes you didn’t know you was havin'
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| Bitch niggas take flight when Bump pick up the mic
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| I write what rappers wanna be like in real life
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| Then spit your favorite song with verses crazy long
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| 'Cause I do what the fuck I want on every song
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| And you bitches are mad 'cause you spit a facade
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| For sad niggas who thought hip-hop was really gone
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| But not for very long, I’m back to carry on
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| Like I’m Marshawn Lynch, runnin' through every song
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| Wack rappers, take a knee, all races
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| In any race, Freddie Foxxx put that ox to they faces
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| And fuck your music is the basis
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| 'Cause my shit hard, rip to the gods, say it, militia |