| Fresh from London… Paris, Germany…
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| It’s Euro-Jay… International Hov…
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| Bon Shoir, muhfuckas… We back…
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| as if we never left this bitch… on top… it’s worldwide…
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| Still Just Blaze’in this shit up…
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| Every place I visit, I got land there
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| How could niggas stand there
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| Say I sound like them? |
| Hell no Push wigs back, push Bentley drops that’s yellow
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| Started from the elbow, nigga, from the get-go
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| No, not the Geico, ain’t nothin accidental
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| Just the facts that I’ve been through
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| Perhaps if you was into
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| Half of the shit I’ve been through
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| That’d make your pen move
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| Your mind would open, your heart would bleed
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| Instead y’all niggas flow oh so retardedly
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| You sound retarded to me!
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| How could you stand there, pants near down to your ass, you wanna spar with me
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| I’ll put you down in the grass, it’s the God MC, Young V-I-T-O
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| Young’n, you are my hijo
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| My son dula
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| I clean the cess pool up Rap stinks
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| You cats are the sphinx
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| You cut off your nose to spite your face
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| Bet you like it that way don’tchya?
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| Don’t you know?
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| When you’re defeated, young punk?
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| Won’t you throw
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| Won’t you throw in the towel, stop running your mouth
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| Don’t you know that we know you’re just running your mouth
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| Cause when this shit pops off, we gonna run in your house
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| Don’t you know
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| When you’re defeated, young punk?
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| Won’t you throw?
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| Won’t you throw in the towel? |
| I’m better with vowels
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| My vocabulary murders the dictionary
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| Flow switches every 16, shits mean, man
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| Shit, I’m heavy in the game
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| I ain’t worried bout a thing
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| Last man standing
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| Blam-blammin the cannon
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| 48 Hours, it’s Reggie Hammond
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| The colte, Nick Nolte
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| My demeanor is Humphrey Bogey
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| Baby, I’m comfy, cozy, my spot is solidified
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| Roc-a-bye baby, I sing you a lillabye
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| How ill am I? |
| BK to Philladi-
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| Delphia! |
| Niggas feelin how real am I Shit, I carry two taurus, niggas they call me gemini
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| Though my birthday is one day before December 5
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| It’s S Carter, the archer, I throw darts at ya Arrows through your apparel, I will dearly depart ya It’s clearly hard for ya, what God has bestowed on me You nah destroys me nigga; |
| nigga I’m poetry
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| In four part harmony, it’s like Jodeci
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| Check out my melody, my flow is a felony
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| Oh, I’m so seventies, I’m in tune with the heavenly
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| Governing body — Check, check, check out my destiny
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| I walk leaving four footprints
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| My hood sense
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| My book smarts
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| My faith of the unknown
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| And a good heart
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| What’s seldom shown is the good part
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| Like I said
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| Try to bring em life, but they want dead
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| You won’t listen
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| Hov is a nice guy, but you don’t miss him
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| That’ll piss him off quick, you won’t listen |