| Yo yo word up!
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| Look who’s back in the joint
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| It’s The Odd Couple in the spot
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| Ghostface and C-Don, for real!
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| It’s like that y’all
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| Niggas’ll crack y’all, attack y’all
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| W.T.C. |
| kid, we back y’all!
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| Yea, for real, for real
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| (Eh yo, chop this niggas man
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| It’s time for me to splash 'em)
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| STEP OFF!
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| Eh yo we million dollars Sinatra’s, jewellery truck
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| Vest did it up, chop shop it
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| Walked out in Babe Ruth, ex-song, hammer-throw heads
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| Brought by Je-sus with the grey goose
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| Famous for The Book of Greed, long nose
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| King Bentley, 9th Prince will decease, made of Ginseng
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| Seen it? |
| It’s real, liver than chase Manhatten
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| Word on Staten I was clappin with the Captain
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| My style is gangsta, bulletproof Guess shorts
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| I’ll fuck you up and come through in a horse
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| We like Shaft outta Africa, graham cracker wild
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| Beneath this side, four or five gold teeth
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| On my neck be the Brolic shit, hurricane CREAM
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| Guerilla shit, flashin the ill data things
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| Excalate, sure raids, chez with the straps on
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| John jumper, Eleanor Poker with the Mac
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| Me and C. Goines, bible material
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| Words collide, we might pop up in your cereal
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| Rock you twice, rock your wife
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| Best known for drives on bikes
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| Tell your man to stop sendin me kites
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| We Tigers Woods in the 'hood
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| The Odd Couple up to no good
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| Y’all handsome and plus whisper made son
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| It’s like that y’all
|
| Niggas’ll crack y’all, attack y’all
|
| W.T.C. |
| kid, we back y’all!
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| It’s like yo the belt is our’s, bitch-ass mothafuckas!
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| It’s like that y’all
|
| Niggas’ll crack y’all, attack y’all
|
| W.T.C. |
| son, we back y’all!
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| It’s The Odd Couple!
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| Ghostface and C-Don, for real!
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| I melt 4−30, hands clustered
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| I walk around dusted, Big Don with the gold plate
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| Pop the cork, buttersoft lights, pop guns at the pork
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| New York, catch you on the elevator
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| Catch you for your watch and your Alligators
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| Blast first, funny style niggas, manipulators, FUCK OFF!
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| It’s The Odd Couple, see you in the Range, bullets start the exchange
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| Supreme Clients, y’all niggas can’t see us
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| Spit track like an 8-ball, ready to brawl
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| All for one, all for Pillage, run y’all across stage
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| Come in your state, bust down your gate
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| Throw spit like a tre'-8, Ghostface
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| Live on the crack tour with Bigga C-Don
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| Crack your jaw when it’s on
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| Crack you in the face with a bottle of Dom Perignon
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| Fuck Antoine, fuck my Bentley homes
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| My wife start fillin pits with hoes
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| Front pole, snatch 'phones out your earlobe
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| [Chorus 3: Ghostface Killah — to fade
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| Overlapping outro]It's like that y’all
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| Niggas’ll crack y’all, attack y’all
|
| W.T.C. |
| kid, we back y’all!
|
| It’s like that y’all
|
| Niggas’ll crack y’all, attack y’all
|
| W.T.C. |
| son, we back y’all!
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| [Outro: Ghostface Killah
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| (Cappadonna)]Y'all mothafuckas don’t know how to act
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| When y’all hold somethin, huh?
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| It’s time to give that shit up now nigga, for real
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| The Blair Witch is back yo
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| (Straight up! The Don of all Dons, word up, for real nigga!)
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| Y’all little bitch niggas
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| When y’all see me none of y’all niggas better say peace
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| For real!
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| Y’all niggas don’t be holdin this shit
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| Y’all frontin
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| We let it slide for a couple of years and shit
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| Yeah, for real, it’s like.
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| Y’all mothafuckas know boy |