| Tell me, what the fuck you gonna tell a vet, a boss?
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| … yet? |
| You lost
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| You underestimated, weak expectations
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| We superceeded all of that, fat all in the map
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| With that (ooh), like we brand new
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| We schoolin, freak it the whole game
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| Feelin' like a fool for speakin'
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| But we ain’t tryna win any awards, make fake friends
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| Exploding below the streets, earthquake
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| In this… shed networking and digging tunnels
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| Invading the industry, hijacking the channels
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| The hatchet and hard truth, part proof that lives
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| Among the mass contention, the system gives
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| If you attackin' back with axes, gats and hatchets
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| Bust 'n doing backflips by any means tactics
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| Get it, their head all in the way? |
| Split it
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| Always leave one alive so they can tell 'em you did it
|
| And then we
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| We break bread, make bread, take bread
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| They said, that we couldn’t do it
|
| But we still here surviving the game
|
| We ride and we grind, survivin' they try to
|
| Keep our voice quiet, but we still here survivin' the game
|
| From killa county to the motor city rollin'
|
| We holdin' 'em steady underground heaters
|
| And we still here survivin' the game
|
| It ain’t nothing but a thing to us
|
| It ain’t nothing but a thing to bust
|
| We crush 'em
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| It ain’t nothing but a thing to spit fire
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| The real shit don’t expire we at a high wire
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| Pullin' tricks 'n stunts we done only hit once
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| Electrocute the industry every six months
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| We get on this bitch but we don’t want it
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| Keep the Lotus low love don’t flaunt it
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| Another Juggalo hit bitch I’m on it
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| And if I ever won a Grammy I’d pawn it
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| You wanna know about this?
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| Well I doubt this you wanna diss
|
| Cause what you love ain’t about shit
|
| We not only survive but thrive and blast
|
| And never stop like «Ah, at last»
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| Puttin' in work self-made experts
|
| Show this played out scene how the next works
|
| Ambition, that’s what got these ho’s dissin'
|
| Thowin' weak ass blows and all week missin'
|
| We break bread, make bread, take bread
|
| They said, that we couldn’t do it
|
| But we still here surviving the game
|
| We ride and we grind, survivin' they try to
|
| Keep our voice quiet, but we still here survivin' the game
|
| From killa county to the motor city rollin'
|
| We holdin' 'em steady underground heaters
|
| And we still here survivin' the game
|
| It ain’t nothing but a thing to us
|
| It ain’t nothing but a thing to bust
|
| We crush 'em
|
| Dough gotta cut, let me introduce
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| To the Juggalo nation ain’t no substitute
|
| For the original hard truth soldier it’s on
|
| I get the strap of the wreck and get yo motherfuckin' back blown
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| The revolutionary pro hitter
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| Spittin' hard truth bricks over street slaps we get with' ya
|
| With 4 million sold…
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| It ain’t a thing for me to post and reach across the motherfuckin Nile
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| Motor city get yo grib tight
|
| 'N recognise the arcitect that sparked the light
|
| Crack the code, show the whole world the power of truth
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| Now motherfucker can you buy that too? |
| I guess ruthless
|
| I see the bitch in them ho’s they get nervous
|
| 'Cause I’m N.W.A. |
| but with a purpose
|
| In these days and times all fake raps and media traps keep it underground
|
| Guerilla attack
|
| We break bread, make bread, take bread
|
| They said, that we couldn’t do it
|
| But we still here surviving the game
|
| We ride and we grind, survivin' they try to
|
| Keep our voice quiet, but we still here survivin' the game
|
| From killa county to the motor city rollin'
|
| We holdin' 'em steady underground heaters
|
| And we still here survivin the game
|
| It ain’t nothing but a thing to us
|
| It ain’t nothing but a thing to bust
|
| We crush 'em
|
| We break bread, make bread, take bread
|
| They said, that we couldn’t do it
|
| But we still here surviving the game
|
| We ride and we grind, survivin' they try to
|
| Keep our voice quiet, but we still here survivin' the game
|
| From killa county to the motor city rollin'
|
| We holdin' 'em steady underground heaters
|
| And we still here survivin the game
|
| It ain’t nothing but a thing to us
|
| It ain’t nothing but a thing to bust
|
| We crush 'em
|
| It’s like a blast fast massacre, mass than blast faster
|
| 'N slash your whole status, you’re staff 'cause y’all have had it
|
| I crash through with mac-mooze attack fools with the black tool |
| With the hard truth for the grass roots and greet y’all with that Whoop Whoop!
|
| It’s MC’in, I’m seein' 'em eatin' them notice
|
| It’s no supposing just «able «es I wrote 'em
|
| Fuck around in the arena, I’m meaner, supreme 'n leaner
|
| I seen 'em slippin', I rip 'em, I’m set trippin' 'n blitz in your system
|
| Juggalos know the best they, recognise my essay
|
| Comin' deep as essays, I’m S. A
|
| The moral of the story’s like Maury, I am the father
|
| Split your wig back, bullshit raps don’t even bother
|
| Take your motherfuckers back to battlin'
|
| I’m battlin', known to make 'em scatter when spittin' gangster chattering
|
| All up in your gathering, back I’m with that black on snatch
|
| 'N crack your backbone, bitch don’t even act on
|
| Write a check 'n make your whole crew bounce
|
| Fake rappers wanna give me a pound
|
| Can’t fuck around with that wanna-g, wannabee-itus it’s like a virus
|
| Sign they ass into the clinic, g shit I be the venom, hit him up, for sinnin'
|
| Run, protect yo women, Juggalettes know, recognise the true’s for jokes
|
| Let a soldier do his thing when I’m in yo scene
|
| Kiss the pinky ring now motherfucker I’m anti-bling
|
| And I take bread 'n make bread, what they said
|
| And all that, but stall that, I never change the format
|
| Recall that, when this drop, I am Hip-Hop
|
| So fuck what you claimin', hard truth don’t stop
|
| So before you fix your mouth and say that you ain’t heard
|
| The A-R after the P before the I-S served
|
| No I put you up on gang cook, ain’t have a skirt
|
| From my mouth to your motherfuckin' ears now that’s my word |