| Big ups to 3SB, DJ Anton, Cancer, DJ Judo, DJ Crucial
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| Agile One, Diverse, Long Shot, and DJ Sapien
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| Sky, Tiki Ohma, Poor Line Condition, Fresh Nest
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| YO! |
| The Movement, Toki Wright, and the 3 Kings
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| We can’t forget Oddjobs, Eyedea, Abilities, Atmosphere, Brother Ali
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| Musab, Joe at Trail Mix, Vicki, Ela, A Skeleton, Northern Spy
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| The Groovenuts Crew, Traditional Methods, or MC Truth Maze
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| Mad props to Martin Devaney, Lazerhawk, The Unknown Prophets
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| The Soviettes, All The Pretty Horses, Dillinger Four, Mark Wheat
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| Mel Gibson and the Pants, Los Nativos, Organic Mind Unit
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| Wes and the Starford Burlesque, Mason Jennings, Bobby
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| DJ Excalibur, Prince Paul, Aceyalone, Carnage and Booka B
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| Illusion, Try-D, his mother, and you, of course
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| Bring it back like an afro or faded jeans
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| Everybody’s game is tight you can find the scenes
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| A grid (?) as big as a statue but behind the scenes
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| Magic fades away like in Field of Dreams
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| You gotta roll with full steam, you get what you get
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| I’m like Buffy or Hammer, I just won’t quit
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| Run around on the track so you know that I’m fit
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| You’re like a Milli Vanilli record, your fans feel gipped
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| Now everywhere I go, I go unrecognized
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| I’m not a pop rapper, doller signs in my eyes
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| But I’m driven like a VH1 documentary
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| Even your mom steps to pay compliments to me
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| Great shades of Elvis; |
| head, heart, and pelvis
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| Three wise guys' hive mind says to tell kids
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| They don’t always agree; |
| that’s okay with me
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| Maybe a lady can debate and persuade the peace
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| Hey mister DJ, drop the beat
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| We wanna show everybody we gots the heat
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| Boys and girls, go and get ready
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| Get on your feet and rock it steady
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| Hey mister DJ, drop the beat
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| We wanna show everybody we gots the heat
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| We gets dirtier than womens mud wrestling between
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| Two diseased old lepers in a sexual fling
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| We could come off clean like Will Smith
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| In a fight with Mr. Clean in a soap-filled boxing ring
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| And it’s a sting operation, you’re gonna get caught
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| I’ll watch 'em like on TV whether they like it or not
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| They’re left to rot, they’re like a teacher on The Peanuts
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| They can only say, «wah wah wah wah,» I think they suck
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| Did you notice when I’m holding this pen, I flow with my hands
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| Like Chopin or Gauguin over a jam
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| The poetry’s bone deep, I know it was planned
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| It’s older than man, the throat of the win was throwin' it in (?)
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| Over the land before the roads were choking the open expanse
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| From boulder to sand, only the ocean would crash
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| The notion that cope with the past approaches at last
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| Fast-forward past the part where the corporate corpse commands
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| Hey mister DJ, drop the beat
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| We wanna show everybody we gots the heat
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| Boys and girls, go and get ready
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| Get on your feet and rock it steady
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| Hey mister DJ, drop the beat
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| We wanna show everybody we gots the heat
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| It’s like the lottery, they say you gotta play to win
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| Too many wannabe writers tryna play the pen
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| I try to set it off like the Grinch with a twisted grin
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| But got my foot in the door, we 'bouts to kick it in
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| Now you say that you’re fresh, you say that you go chillin' (?)
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| Twinkies stepped in your place, knockin' out your villains
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| So you’re waiting for your chance to make your next move
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| Stop starin' at me man, you ain’t got nothin' to prove
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| Where’d you get them rhymes? |
| On an assembly line?
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| Now, we seen the way he rocks, and he ain’t worth a dime
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| Can’t pay no mind, I can’t take no breaks
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| You ain’t Tony the Tiger, nothin' you do is grrreat
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| Ain’t shit on my plate to eat but tasty beats
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| And I latel the soup, happens to be alphabet beef
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| The letters are too hot, beats are too cold
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| Weren’t you told about other people’s bowls? |
| Lots of cold (?)
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| It ain’t that we’re the best, but we come correct (?)
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| And there’s always progress, no useless excess
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| X amount of bars, obese to get all
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| You’re extremely overrated like your name is Randy
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| Moss on the hillside, beats on a platter
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| Everybody talks shit to see who’s fatter
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| If you wanna make it hit, better be a good batter
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| Always keep it flowin' like an overactive bladder
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| Hey mister DJ, drop the beat
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| We wanna show everybody we gots the heat
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| Boys and girls, go and get ready
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| Get on your feet and rock it steady
|
| Hey mister DJ, drop the beat
|
| We wanna show everybody we gots the heat |