| All right, let’s get down to business
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| Pour out some Guinness
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| Khrysis, get on the jack and tell them they’re so finished
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| Christ to the Jesus, the Jeanius came back as a Phoenix
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| 9th like, «Yo Jean, I got some heaters»
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| Well, I got some lines that turn grown men
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| Back into the fetus position with they penis pissing
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| Didn’t mean to be the meanest spitting
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| It just happened, you know?
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| Like getting drunk and then you slip and you’re cheating (oh!)
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| It’s been a crazy year -- brought back the doorknockers
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| Baby hair, one sleeve up like Slim Shady’s gear
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| I’m writing with Afeni’s baby work ethic
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| Plus I’m Aileen Wuornos… minus the murder record
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| Plus I’m highly unconcerned -- you can find me, mouth turned
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| Like the smiley up on AOL (you're a fucking nerd!)
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| Fuck it -- so? |
| You fucks with it, though
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| The structureless flow
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| The seemingly haphazard, really exact patterns
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| So Jean is Jean Travers, y’all is just jackasses
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| By and large, the fact of the matter that I’m in charge, that rapper
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| That’s accurate, spectacular, fantastic
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| Scrumtrulescent, uncontested funky, bitch
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| You all steppin' cause this is the fucking jam
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| People turning the beat up, my people clap their hands
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| My niggas keep truckin', my ladies throw up your hands
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| Dance to the record, just dance to the record girl
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| You all steppin' cause this is the fucking jam
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| People turning the beat up, my people clap their hands
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| My niggas keep truckin', my ladies throw up your hands
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| Dance to the record boy, dance to the record boy
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| I need a private insane asylum to grant asylum to me
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| It could get violent quickly if you don’t believe me, God forgive me
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| An honorary anonymous superstar
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| Followed by the very time I salute where the stupid fall
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| A low road, but no going back
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| Not when you’ve got a fucking logo in the promo rack
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| Signing records, taking pictures -- you can no-no that
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| Gotta finish, gotta win; |
| as God as my witness, I’m in…
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| And y’all’ll have to jump me out of this bitch
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| I’m talking Eastsiders, Westsiders, Blood-ers, and Crips
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| All them Decepts, at least three sets and grips
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| And I’ll reset -- until then, it’s recess, bitch
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| So c’mon |