| Dangerous, dangerous
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| These niggas can’t hang with us hang with us
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| Nigga we dangerous, dangerous
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| My nigga we
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| I swear all my life I been around crips and bloods
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| Crips and slugs, the trigger happiest thugs
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| Claiming the slums, and all the hoods that they from
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| Too much of the some, got it twisted up blinded in a rat race
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| Cash straight, the fake kill jake, the snakes too late
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| My eyes dilate, and I could tell them how he strafe
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| Coming at me sideways, get straighten up
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| Don’t deflate it up gimmie the bucks my cash wrinkling up
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| Looking back in the days, amazed
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| Cause the lab rat done made it out the maze
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| Still feel caged, enraged though
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| Used the underground railroad like a runaway slave
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| Broke off the chains still runway fresh
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| Got you on that mental plane with my project jet
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| I’m two steps above that nimbus cloud
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| My limit is low, when I’m smoking on that loud
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| Focus in the now, when the lotus is around
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| It’s the Brooklyn sound, a pro found, Biggie would be proud about
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| But I don’t need a vet to even shout me out
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| Punchlines pack a Pacquiao they can’t box me out
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| Big up big up, it’s a stick up stick up
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| Niggas hit a nigga quick if he hiccup hiccup
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| Big up big up, it’s a stick up stick up
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| Niggas hit a nigga quick if he hiccup hiccup
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| Tell me what them know bout the Badmon named Jozif
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| Women come around, I look em down like they don’t know shit
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| Word around the town is that they got the match explode it
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| I’m a child of the city
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| Son of the streets
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| And it’s just a pity
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| They not tough like we
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| And things not look pretty
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| When we got to eat
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| Things get much deeper
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| Deeper and deeper
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| And I survive, thank the father
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| Feel like I was raised by Clans One Order
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| Had to keep calm and hold ma corner
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| Cause a stray gun shot if you cross the border
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| Pro Era teach them the pros and cons
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| Of living in a city with a thousand dons
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| A thousand ghetto youths with a thousand guns
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| Cold hearted killers with frozen lungs
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| But praise rastafari we wheel and come again
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| Know I Nyabinghi sit know we the drummer dem
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| Dem ammunition are tougher we power dem
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| Lightning and thunder a devour them
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| Pro Era teach them the pros and cons
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| Original Chronixx and Joe Badmon
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| No King Selassie, we have the golden crown
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| Get ready for the shift we are the chosen ones |