| Unforceable, invincible, atypical, enter this ventricle
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| Wide open like a child’s pleasure principle
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| My principalities remain unrinseable
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| Brain unwashable, dry clean only
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| So fresh so deep, never lonely
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| So genuine, my copies ain’t phony
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| So recognize and give me what you owe me
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| Your attention and long-term memory
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| Whether in solitude or assembly
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| I make (fraggles?) go BOW! |
| Never wimbly
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| I got my enemies shook like there was ten of me
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| Happy belated one of these days
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| I survive everywhere (the people wanna be paid)
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| So many ways, you must be crazed if you think that you can stop it
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| Think I don’t command props
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| You gotta redefine what props is
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| Well, it stands for proper, you can start there
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| Proper respect and my product you handle with proper care
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| Even though it stand the test of time
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| With the wear and tear
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| To make the grandstand, the new look threadbare
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| Still the fact remains
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| Those that want to test my threshold for pain
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| Better be well-trained or they won’t last to the refrain
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| Aim lyrics (BLAOW!) Two to your brain
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| I double-tap you where the source of the trouble at
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| I’m sure you had to double that
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| To show y’all the serious, furious
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| I bring the cat back to life from bein' curious
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| And scratchin' beneath the surface to a J-Live rhyme
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| The shit that make payola-playas nervous at your service
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| One of these days, even they may play the real shit, yeah
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| Even primetime need a little true school rhyme time
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| So let the sun shine on every square mile of style
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| And one of these days our rappers won’t be so foul
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| As the bullshit they wade through
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| Livin' in denial like the shit that we say don’t shake up
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| Or mold the youth, if you want to teach them the fine truth
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| Or let them think they bullet-proof
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| One of these days (BLAOW!) Right in the ass kisser
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| And don’t forget your get-over scheme
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| Here, take it with ya, I see through like a cipher
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| That’s why ya got — threw you out my cypher
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| I’m through tryin' to decipher the double-talk
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| Double that too, so the biters’ll get it right
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| And the writers will get excited
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| But see man, your bitch ass will never get invited
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| To a caliber, an echelon like this
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| Until something better was created
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| Then I say «Happy Belated» |