| Jon Murdock!
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| Yo, break this shit down for these motherfuckers, yo
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| Cut you like surgical position with my burst of wisdom
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| I’m the fourth, your first dimension here to curse the system
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| First he kissed him, and second he fucked him
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| And at your favorite rapper, this shit is disgustin'
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| I’m nicer than all these commercial rap rhymers
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| Heath Ledger MCs, Brokeback Mountain climbers
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| A Bentley in a video, a chain and some bitches clubbin'
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| Even though the track is wack, all these kids will love it
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| The shit we rock, the music is ill
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| And the MCs that rhyme, they do it with skill
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| They do it without or they do it with deals
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| Put in the work for years and they do it for real
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| How you feel?
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| Y’all would never know what type of life I lead
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| The way I think, the emotions, all the sights I’ve seen
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| Through the good and bad times, I recite my dreams
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| Never stoppin', steady rockin', through this mic I breathe
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| On this mic, you’s a wack motherfucker that think he nice
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| Made a few beats and say you got a deal with Winky Wright |
| You doing this music, you fluent with acoustics
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| Pulled two strings and Fruity Loop’d it, you stupid
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| I can’t stand a Stan, I can’t stand you, fam
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| Went to New York to see your bitch, now you mans with Cam
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| I’m a leader, you’s a follower, demolish ya
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| Sampled Oliver, now the street’s should acknowledge ya?
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| And Lil Wayne’s the best? |
| (Yea right) I put these lames to rest
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| Blaze your chest, put the money up, pussy, place your bets
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| Hip-Hop's dead as a door nail, I’m more ill
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| Immune to wack MCs, we at war still
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| 'Cause y’all would never know what type of life I lead
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| The way I think, the emotions, all the sights I’ve seen
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| Through the good and bad times, I recite my dreams
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| Never stoppin', steady rockin', through this mic I breathe
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| Breathe ether, the beat heat seeker, supreme speaker
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| Ceremony Master of rhymes, here to teach ya
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| A backpack of back smack you wack rappers
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| From now and here after, my presence creates a fear factor
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| When you see me, you know not to battle me
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| My lyrical overdose gives you nightmares from shallow sleep |
| Beneath the surface of gimmicks is my image
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| A vision that lasts three to five minutes and I’m in it
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| A 1080p signal is not an equal visual
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| I’m a million light years away, and that’s the minimal
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| With a collage of adjectives and synonyms
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| I make the crowds wave back and forth like a pendulum
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| 'Cause y’all would never know what type of life I lead
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| The way I think, the emotions, all the sights I’ve seen
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| Through the good and bad times, I recite my dreams
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| Never stoppin', steady rockin', through this mic I breathe
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| Motherfuckers, yeah, Jon Murdock
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| Vanderslice on the motherfucking boards
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| All you wack MCs need to back the fuck up
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| This my time, bitch motherfuckers
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| You fucking commercial rap faggots
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| Ain’t nothing fucking with this
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| Flying Dutchmen, motherfuckers
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| Never know, never know, never know |