| You ever seen someone who roll with Mayweather, rhyme like Ricky Hatton
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| Smash whatever you throw, 1000 is what I’m battin'
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| Got a few hooks but no jabs
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| Took 'em out your corndog books and notepads
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| I get it, you got rich robbin' those in the industry
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| Bite off this one, steal from your enemy
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| Never try to play the hottest one out your camp
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| He might step off and take half the joules from your amp
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| Enough to make you vogue on the cover of GQ
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| Only missin' the sheer blouse, homie, you see-through
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| Stop sippin' on that Formula 50
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| They want heat, I’ll give it to them, burnt and crispy
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| Rhymes too short to box with God, so stretch it
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| Especially these overrated rap Stepin Fetchits
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| I told you if I rain, there’ll be an eternal drizzle
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| Woodwork strips being chipped with sharp chisels
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| One verse shatter your spine and crush your spirit
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| No matter what, you still window shop for lyrics
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| If you’s a pimp, put chicks on a stroll
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| And if those your soldiers, give 'em bigger guns to hold
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| Who shot ya? |
| You don’t have enough on your roster
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| You move like a fed, but you talk like a mobster
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| That yayo you slangin', please abort it
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| Too many cuts on it, cokeheads they won’t snort it
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| Spray the Flea-Unit with pesticides
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| You can get your best ghostwriters, get them all to testify
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| Have you ever been stung by a thousand hornets?
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| Five hundred killa bees, buzzin' and really on it
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| Whipped with Cuban Linx, cut with Liquid Swords
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| Choked by Ironman 'til we crush your vocal cords
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| You ain’t nothin' but a pig in a blanket
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| Hoghead, the deadliest food at the banquet
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| All this rap crap that’s trapped in your colon
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| Only means, get rid of the wack sh-- you holdin'
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| Sweet-tooth dudes, stay out the candyshop
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| You ain’t gotta handcuff 'em to see the panties drop
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| A few cats is lookin' for a rat with cheese
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| Got somethin' to pitch? |
| They all swing a bat with ease
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| Get your ankles broke while doin' your two-step
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| Leave a «Thank you!"note for the crutches the Wu left
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| Proactive rap, you know they put drug in the cream
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| You hallucinate, see Kanye in your dream
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| And yo, I don’t smoke dust, I dust off Smokey and the Bandits
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| With the brush stroke off the canvas
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| I walk on your gators and lizards
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| Raise the lynx that was killed for your minks, you be rockin' in blizzards
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| Wanna be cock 'til you walk the D-Block
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| To get a transfer, I’ll spread your wings like peacocks
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| I was an emcee while you was in Nutville
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| On a world tour, you was gettin' your guts spilled
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| Ten years your senior but I flow like I’m twenty-one
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| Straight from Medina, with a mass of many suns
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| Supernova, give off gamma-ray bursts
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| And I’ll finish this only, 'cause I let off first
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| Wassup? |