| Watch out, bust the style I be kickin'
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| I play the gig role and bite your head off like a chicken
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| I’m the lord of the rings like Bilbo Baggins
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| Return of my dragon, pants be saggin'
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| Science be droppin', thoughts be buildin'
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| My instinct’s primal, tappin' your spinal
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| I’ll smack Mike and Janet for the whole freakin' planet
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| Don’t take me for granted, 'cause my eyes be slanted
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| From the phat back of blade, I must consume
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| 'Cause my soul’s on the verge of impending doom
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| So make room, for the crew with kegs of brew
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| Doin' what we do, so what’s the matter with you
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| Divine Styler
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| Cockni O’Dire
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| I bow my head to the east five times a day
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| I put my face in the dirt every time I pray
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| To disrupt the jinn in me, 'cause the sin in me’s
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| Tryin' to take over and make my soul crossover
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| I’m steady rollin' with my head up
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| 'Cause my system pumps loud, everybody’s on my nuts
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| And everybody wants to know who lives the phattest
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| The black 850 representin' my status
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| Plus, I got the baddest, house on the hill
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| My bank account’s full, but my soul’s empty still
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| Divine Styler
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| Cockni O’Dire
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| I said take me from your House of Pain
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| See my style’s maintained, 'cause my membrane’s sane
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| So put down your juice, pass your jinn
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| Push up on a skin, I begin to win
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| There ain’t, no need to worry about where I’ve been
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| If I pass my jinn I begin to win
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| I say, put down your juice, pass the jinn
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| Push up on a skin I begin to win
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| There ain’t, no need to worry 'bout where I’ve been
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| If I pass my jinn I begin to win
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| Divine Styler |