| While childish MC’s battle over coastal fronts
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| I come with no fronts and smash in monkey fronts
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| If you want to be evil like Knieval then jump
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| I guarantee your punk ass catch the speed lump
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| The tactics, extract, morbid thoughts from the mental
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| custom designed, for instrumental
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| Yes indeedy, lyrical graffiti
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| And this one’s a burner, baby
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| Truck, like Toyata driven
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| True and livin drivin with the gat
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| Uhh, pop the clutch, let the Cold Crush rush
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| Then I flush wack material
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| That’s if I don’t mash them all to mush
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| Hush, let me burst, dare I gush
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| Cock-diezel cuts
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| Lyrical arsenal equivalent to arsenic
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| East coast (killer), West coast (killer)
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| Yo, why do they make me wanna ruin they career?
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| Before I bust your shit let’s get one thing clear
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| Don’t provoke Kris no joke this
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| I don’t ride no rapper’s nutsac yo I stay focused
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| Beefin without skills seekin will only weaken
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| The artist speakin over beats and, you be cheatin
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| Cacaphony of small talent rappers, claimin a coast
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| over instrumentals, ain’t got no real street credentials
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| Here come the philosopher hip-hopppin ya correctly
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| Ignorant ass MC’s continue to tempt me
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| Lyrics be empty like Alcatraz cellblock
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| Too many MC’s rappin causin lyrical gridlock
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| Lyrical syllables interlock in my voicebox
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| Yet I’m still unknown like the X on Sadat
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| Just your typical, non-topical
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| Flex the optical illusion weak metaphoric style you be usin
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| I check one-two's and who’s in the house
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| Like shit your lyrics ooze out ya mouth
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| Whattyou think this is? |
| KRS-One from the Bronx kid!
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| East coast (killer), West coast (killer)
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| Welcome to the New World Order
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| You are now under martial law
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| All constituional rights have been suspended
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| The most scandalous, cut the bad apple, we can handle this
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| Coast trippin goin on through out the business
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| East Coast West Coast anybody killer!
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| I don’t give a fuck where you from I’ma Killa Hill-er
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| I got crews on both sides together
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| Deeper than the ocean and down for whatever
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| Fool I can roll through any block
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| from Central to Westland Avenue, without my glock
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| But some niggaz can’t survive on both sides
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| So they try and break off, eliminate ties
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| Fools got to get wise, better realize
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| True, enemy lies killin in the highrise
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| office, analyzing the song
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| Look at them red niggaz, don’t even get along
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| Kill that noise, four niggaz bringin the skill
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| Mad caps get peeled if you oppose the Hill
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| Yeah that’s right fool, you know who, the mighty Group Therapy
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| The mighty mighty Aftermath brigade, letting all you sound boys know
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| You’re not ready to rumble or test this
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| Kill that noise!
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| East coast (killer), West coast (killer)
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| Now when I bomb like Sadaam, the world feels The Wrath of Khan
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| Desert Storm in this modern day Babylon
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| I be the twelve disciples strap arms
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| All black on running your spot hit the safe and I’m gone
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| Like a thief wrong, I keep the long 38 warm
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| Silent and calm, and blackout when the beef is on
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| Focus on your rap holsters, notice
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| I’m evil like the Exorcist to the locusts
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| Ferocious thoughts, are mergin at night
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| Like Jehovah towards the virgin in white
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| I’m wrapped in a turban for spite
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| Like a Israelite snatchin hoes up, my flow’s up
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| When the fuckin world blows up throw your hands up
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| It’s a holdup, frontin like you down for the real
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| to make a meal, but when plan fold, nigga you squeal
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| like Heavy Heel, but what’s the fuckin deal?
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| East coast (killer) West coast (killer) |