| For real hip hop niggas.
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| J.I.G. |
| Mastas.
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| For days on I hear the same song sayin' nothin new
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| I’m in the cunt gettin' my blaze on tryin' to stay to I face you
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| We at the next level you tryin' to find that each and every day
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| It’s gettin hard for you to grasp my speech
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| The class I teach
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| Make you cram to understand lyrics so dope
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| They oughta cut me up in grams touchin' my hand
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| Before me and my man rushes to jam, crushing y’clan
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| No time for you to execute your plan next to shoot a man
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| Or so you say forget the drama causin' rap
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| You still got news to pay bitches and
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| Around the way in army fatigues
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| The way you mislead the public
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| Frontin' like you rough and rugged, hold up
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| I ask myself, 'is that mad nice?'
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| I like the way he grip the mic device, is he worth the price?
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| Most times I can’t see his skills, it’s microscopic
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| Y’all niggas ain’t makin music son, ya need to stop it
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| The J.I.G.'s be droppin' real
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| Let you know that we only flow to real
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| It’s the norm that we perform rugged
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| G-thumpin, party jumpin'
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| I see treasures, beyond the material
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| Cause the luxuries don’t measure up to me
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| Maybe enough to me
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| The way I feel this salvation truly divine
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| When I intertwine like vine
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| My lyrics to these basslines
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| Know that, I quest to live big willy
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| Fuck the phillies, roll up the fonta
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| And vocally I haunt ya, Kriminul I stick you up
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| For your mental in a minute while I’m in it
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| Fill it with lyrics, till it reach the limit
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| No gimmicks, causes wrath, man it’s real and I feel
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| I’m like Medusa, take one look at me and niggas stand still
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| The blast still switches be all out for riches and bitches and flies
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| Witches on broomsticks whenever my toolkits
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| Consume kid, all walks of life, talks of trife
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| schemes, we’ll put you in the land of permanent dreams
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| The J.I.G.'s be droppin' real
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| Let you know that we only flow to real
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| It’s the norm that we perform rugged
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| G-thumpin, party jumpin'
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| I do this for niggas true to this
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| Before haters would use their fists, fuck the foolishness
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| With blasts that expand just like a uterus
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| Your hollow team’ll get yolked up like Halloween
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| J.I.G's drop tombs on tracks to make the other seem mediocre
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| Misrepresent the culture? |
| Never
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| Sever the heads of competition, sport it like a treasure
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| Y’all better recognize like familiar family members
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| What’s that? |
| You’se frontin hard but in your heart you know you tender
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| Slender, the chance of you slidin' by fakin' jacks
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| East, west, north south son, no matter where you at
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| Here to strap, it’s bound to rock knots like Bon Jovi
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| Beyond keepin' it real, so motherfuck the foley
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| Run up on me, get hit with rhymes deep like grave diggers
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| In rap, we like the EMS: We come and save niggas
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| The J.I.G.'s be droppin' real
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| Let you know that we only flow to real
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| It’s the norm that we perform rugged
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| G-thumpin, party jumpin' |