| Intro: samples
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| --Feel the realness--
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| --In this business of rep--
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| --Go ahead--
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| Fresh out the gate again, time to raise the stakes again
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| Fatten my plate again, y’all cats know we always play to win
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| G-A-N-G, to the Starr’s, son
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| Haters, took this shit too far, son
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| So thats all for you, I’m whiping out your whole team
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| I’ll splatter your dreams with lyrics to shatter your schemes
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| The badder you seem, the more lies you tell
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| The more lies you sell, then by surprise you fell
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| Into my deathtrap, right into my clutches
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| Stupid, you know the God must bless every single mic he touches
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| I’ve suffered, just so I could return harder
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| Wanna be the shit starter? |
| Fuck around, make you a martyr
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| I make ya famous, turn around and make ya nameless
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| Cause you never understood to me how vital this rap game is Save it and hold that, you catch a hot one
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| Rhymes chase a fake nigga down soon as I spot one
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| Chorus: Gang Starr samples, except where noted
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| --Full clip--
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| --Do you wanna mess with this?--
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| --Gang Starr--
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| --I'm one of the best yet--
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| --I'm nice like that--
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| It’s all good --→Noreaga
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| --In this business of rep--
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| So if you stand in my way, I’m gonna have to spray
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| Learn that if you come against me son your gonna have to pray
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| Since back in the day I held The Weight and kept my head up The wanna see the God catch an L Itz all a Set Up I give no man or thing power over me Why these niggaz so jealous and lookin sour, over me?
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| I’m bolder, G, I’m like impossible to stop
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| I’m like that nigga in the ring with you, impossible to drop
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| I’m like two magazine fully loaded to your one
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| Plus I ain’t gonna quit spittin, nigga, till your done
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| Plus, more than over, I got my whole shit together
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| More than a decade of hits, that’ll live forever
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| Catchin rep off my name? |
| Your bound to fry
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| Know how many niggaz that I know, is done to die
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| We never fail, and we ain’t never been frail
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| You niggaz talk crime, but you scared of jail
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| Attackin like a slick Apache lyrics are trigger happy
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| Pullin back your wig piece just for the way your lookin at me Talk back, blaow! |
| I hit you up right now
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| I don’t know why so many of y’all wanna be thugs anyhow
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| Face the consequence, of your childish nonsense
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| I could make your head explode just by my lyrical content
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| Get you in my scope and metaphorically snipe ya I never liked ya, I gas that ass and then ignite ya The flame thrower, make your peops afraid to know ya How many times I told ya, play your position small soldier
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| My heart is colder, makes me wanna resort to violence
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| Stop beatin me in the head son, nah, I’m not buyin it
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| I’m ready to blast, ready to surpass and harass
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| I’m ready to flip, yeah I’m ready to get with all that cash
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| I hold my chrome steady, with a tight grip
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| So watch your dome already cause this one might hit |