| We kept hustlin
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| We kept grindin
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| The overwhelming workload that it takes
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| The shakin' off snakes
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| The pains and the aches
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| Wrong moves and mistakes
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| They disrupt, they corrupt and distract you from your mission
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| And all those who let go and spend their lives wishin and missin
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| I couldn’t listen in school, I felt I had a different callin
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| But all everybody did was roll their eyes and start yawnin
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| But this is real life and only you is livin through your eyes
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| There are dreamers, those who want it
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| And us, who won’t be denied
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| Its a struggle every day, success is far from fuckin free
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| Unless you plucked it from a tree, with J and ICP
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| Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J (Shaggy: «Refuse to Lose!»)
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| Livin' proof do what you got and you can do what you choose
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| Hate to sit back on this track like a little bitch and remininsce
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| But instead I’ll kick a little history all about the hatchet
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| By this time in the game, most motherfuckers, they done fell apart
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| In these years we still shinin and we now just gettin our start
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| Inner City Posse jumped on the scene and we was mad crewed up
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| In the end when shit got rough and tough, it was just the two of us
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| When you was in the club gettin ya grind and ya sip on
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| We was in the parkin lot, hittin up cars, gettin our flyers on
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| Did my first show when I was sixteen
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| It’s still part of my scheme
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| J holdin out a drive-thru window at Burger King to support our dreams
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| It seemed like yesterday, the world wasn’t ready for two clown freaks
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| But we kept grindin
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| Now who on whose dick, lil Bitch shit
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| I woke up in the morning with my head on backwords
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| Went from street livin to an underground master
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| Went from sellin baggies in alleys
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| To sellin bangers from here to Cali
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| And rollin with the Psychopathic family
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| I started up with Krazees, hooked up with Violent J
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| The rest is still bein written like a biography
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| Don’t think you know my story, cause there’s too much to tell
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| Just know that I’ve been underground and I’ve been doin well
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| Since the days of makin tapes in the basement
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| We came a long way, I’d like to see you do the same shit
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| Monoxide, and I’m Twiztid with a Z
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| Carnival representin' til I D-I-E
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| We met ICP way back, touring once or twice
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| They was real cool, Felt like we known 'em all our life
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| They said You ever wanna sign with them
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| We was like hell yeah we down the ground with friends
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| They put us up, this was way before the family era
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| When we toured for three years with a t-shirt
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| Gettin mixed response from the bleachers and show-goers
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| Prepared for rock-throwers and flame-throwers we stayed focused
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| In '98 we dropped our first LP
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| Psychopathic presentin' Twiztid Mostasteless, the CD
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| Go out and get it bitch, shit is cold as ice
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| So dope that we released it twice
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| And we still here
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| It started as a guest spot, Parlayed to a real spot
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| Worked behind the scenes before I really got a shot
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| In the studio, quick still needin to prove somethin
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| My skills got me the deal off the CD you know it’s dope
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| But it was on now in '99, the first GOTJ
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| Ya Dead Homie Blaze and ABK rippin the stage
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| The first time I ever got to grind in the sunshine
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| Six minutes shorter the EP’s full play time
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| Still confusin some, give love for One Less G
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| That’s when we moved to the streets and people started hearin me
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| From Colton Grundy to Clockwork Grey my skills increased
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| Don’t believe me? |
| Pick up my next CD
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| Last House on Dead Street
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| I keep it grindin like an old set of car brakes
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| Started off with a duel player and casette tapes
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| By '95 my life was frustrated so I developed my mentals and let the funk
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| recreate it
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| And then I hit the stage with my homie Blaze, thuggin for life
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| City to city tours under the light
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| Straight outta Detroit grindin Warrior baby
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| I ain’t never gonna stop, my heat’s never on safety
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| This is Psychopathic bitch boy and we so sweet
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| What you know about the label runnin under the streets?
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| This be Anybody Killa homie, like me or not
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| Over a hundred thousand sold bitch with one bout to drop
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| For real
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| Mothafuckas don’t trip I’m one of the youngest homies on the (Otis: «block»)
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| And keepin it grindin with a (Otis: «dot») |
| And on my way to the fuckin (Otis: 'top")
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| Because we underneath the surface
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| Be prepared to get real hurt bitch
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| We came from the gutter and now
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| I’m fuckin your mother and workin it
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| I know I’m only 24 up in this ho but check it yo
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| I was smokin before some of y’all was even startin to grow
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| Some of y’all don’t even know
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| So many shows by eighteen
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| And by my twenty-first I was on the national scene, see
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| Been given an oppurtunity to speak my words and yo
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| Be keepin it wicked and run with the hatchet
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| For sho so smoke your roll
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| My name is Bonez and this be O-T
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| We murderin fucks til the sun comes up
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| That’s why they call us A.M.B
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| Hey homie I hope you listen to my rappin
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| Cause rappin is all I have it’s all that every fuckin mattered
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| Your heart can get shattered your pockets can get fatter
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| Just grind like me and mine and you’ll shine like my family
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| In the beginning my mission was to make it to the hatchet
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| Then I did it and started laughin I grinded and look what happened
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| My mind is not on this planet, cause y’all thought that we vanished
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| But God’s Hand got my back
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| And the game still gets me fuckin mad
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| I start poppin off at the mouth when somethin bothers me
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| You mothafuckers better give it up for R.O.C
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| You mothafuckers better give it up for A.M.B
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| DJ Clay mixtapes, gettin paid and makin haters bleed
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| All the blood and the tears I spent on most of the years
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| And all the time on the grind I conquered most of my fears
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| The knowin I would make it and was it worth the sacrifice
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| Skippin meals and skippin bills I hoped that it was worth the price
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| Of the love of my kids and would they hate me in the end
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| For all the time I didn’t spend I knew I’d have to make amends
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| So kept the mike in one hand the other gripped on my Glock
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| Kept one eye on the prize the other fixed up on the clock
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| It was a hustle in my heart that let me know I wouldn’t fail
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| Would I end up on the stage or would I end up in a cell
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| Then one Monday afternoon I got that call from Psychopathic
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| Put the pistol in the drawer and now I’m runnin with the hatchet
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| (All: «Woop Woop!»)
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| I was sixteen young and was never put on
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| But was put down strong when Rude Boy gave me a call
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| Sayin that the wicked clowns had a party called Big Ballas
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| And if I want to come spin and make a couple dollars
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| St. Andrew’s Hall (Yeah!) Remember it all (Yeah!)
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| When I went into this game who knew I would last this long
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| Then when '06 came around you can Fuck the Fuck Off
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| It was me and Shaggy 2 Dope I was on my first tour
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| And little did I know it was the first of many more
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| Now I’m pushin out mixtapes for the Juggalos
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| And the love I get from them keeps me higher than some dro
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| That’s why I’m standin here, arms crossed
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| Just to let you know how we |