| I get mine, you bitches snore for slalom
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| Big blunts back-to-back, Corinthian columns
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| Just ask Skimp, he got a hole in the pena-joint
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| We got Sequoia style woods and they dipped in oil
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| Royal, flagged gold floating like a hydrofoil
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| Down the Tigris river for miles, it coils and curves
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| And oh boy got the nerve, absurd in his mind think he won’t get served
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| By the rhyme scintillating
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| Move like a chasing, quite titillating
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| You guys fugazi I’d stick to hating if I were you
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| Do what you do, your whole shtick power you
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| So stick to the rivers and roads
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| You niggas dove for the kids start the river it blows
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| You niggas don’t got the jaw to withstand pitfall in quicksand
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| A savage gab that marges standards
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| Rap style is small you lavish and expansive
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| Grab me as you babble manhandle over the cancel
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| Tougher than cancer, rougher than dancer feet
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| Methodical, I master it
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| Ay, the flow in me, doo
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| All fall throwing berries in your Hembi route
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| You look back, «damn, Lias, they ran by us»
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| Didn’t say deal wouldn’t coming on the flier
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| Don’t trip, I give a grip like hand pliers
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| Bloodsuckers hate my shine, they ran by us
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| Empires, the driest my raps recoil
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| Backwood blunts and flaxy royal
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| It’s Hiero you better bet on us
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| A train with 20 rooms a rap and 6 floors of editors
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| I’m telling ya, you better get more competitors
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| We go in there’s no when we pop up the form predators
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| Jealous of us? |
| Fall back
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| You ain’t all that, call that what you want
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| Have a tall glass of Haterade on the rocks
|
| While Hiero spread like smallpox
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| We unorthodox jump off the jot
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| Numeric designations were placed on whoever hesitating
|
| Next here 'vestigation to see why y’all lack application
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| I encapsulate aggravation, your antiquation cancellation
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| And you can’t say shit, be quiet
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| We rob or breaking shit down in East Fiber
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| The quagmire, ask us to add fire
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| Strengthen you up on the embankment
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| Tanking, draw your weapon you trace it
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| My oil painting that’s ever-changing
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| Colors of a Rubik’s cube loopty-loop
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| Do hoops of producing Q, stupid fool
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| I be castrating MCs with a straight razor
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| Cause my styles cut mad straight in these large angles
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| Hard times is my star spangle
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| Hip-hop national anthem in my anthology Pantheon
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| Gargantuan, eat you and your man up
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| Like Magnus Prime, my mantel’s hard, avant garde
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| With a mechanical advantage I’m failing for
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| Bet you get your can of loaf flight we ban 'em boy
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| Can’t afford a bucket let alone Nantucket
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| We stuck with them tail tucker
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| You act luster, your Mac sluggish
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| I spark plug these chicks like hard drugs
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| And Bacardi dark rum in the party song |