| Authors signal blank space, claiming Buck Rodgers
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| Say the same shit in L.A., and let them duck Dodgers
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| Every breath is like I come up from the water submerged in Alphabet soup,
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| this loop is a spoon
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| I use to take scoops I loot this brain fruitfully
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| Bootlegged perusers rap to reign truthfully
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| Used to scrabble on late notes
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| Now I let my pen ice skate on the back of these bank notes
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| Check the dictation over the sound of these navotes
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| If a rapper falls off in the jungle there’s no hope
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| When there’s nobody heard, you can hear the town die in the back of an alleyway,
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| homie, the strong survive
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| Rock a chain made of beer-tabs
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| Drinking after heavy nights, I’m blinking in the distance on the oncoming
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| headlights
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| Walk the road or the road walks you
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| You ain’t a special motherfucker, put your blimp in a zoo
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| I’m saying, tame your big head for the lazy men and laymens
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| I don’t deal in terms below mine, so pay attention
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| To the justified shine, no mention of mine, kid, cause, I’m just here for the
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| pension and prime rib
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| I’m self made, DIY to consign me, to half them label wars, you can say I’m a
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| wise bitch
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| There’s no identity and they like it
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| Now I’m having indie knobs say, «That ain’t bad for a white kid…»
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| Your horse is too damn high, just like the rent
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| Sounds like you need an extra friend to harvard your dent
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| I’ll take you down a couple notches like a Thanksgiving dinner
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| When I attack, run cooler than Jamaicans in the winter
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| Yul Brenner: There’s nothing wrong with I see, it’s about what you see,
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| now look in the mirror, and tell me again, what you see
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| Junior Bevill: I see-
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| Yul: PRIDE!
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| Jr: Pride, right
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| Yul: POWER!
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| Jr: Power! |
| And I see-
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| Yul: A badass mother
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| Jr: Who don’t take no crap off of nobody!
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| Yul: AGAIN!
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| Jr: I see pride!
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| Yul: Can’t hear you!
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| Jr: I see POWER! |
| I see a bad ass mother, who won’t take no crap off of nobody!
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| Yul: ONCE AGAIN!
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| Jr: I SEE PRIDE!
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| Yul: JUNIOR!
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| Jr: I SEE POWER, I SEE A BADASS MOTHER WHO WON’T TAKE CRAP OFF OF NOBODY!
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| Ay Coach, I’m hoping a study-day approach i’m holy high on these mountains
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| eagle this eye dali pray
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| The humans divide and procreate
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| Pros chose to decide this guys fate, since i’s about five-eight
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| Inhabited mystic, art god, or all ballistic
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| I can’t even see myself, and this shit is still narcissistic-KHHHH
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| So go source when force is fuck wittable, course-load, accounting for seven
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| chakras the intervals box out
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| You cock dribbling bubble-fucks, I thunk in, triple-double, tu fumbling yup
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| I troublesome sun-king
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| He ran away from proud rock in fear of that one thing, scars will get passed,
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| gas that stunt with a bum wing
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| Bitch, hakuna-matata, cumma hadouken, summa cum laude, the party or some will
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| come later, but we get it started
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| Cause summer comes once again
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| School came when God shot at the fall, I’m scorpion-born
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| Love scorn, I claim retarded, and go in
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| Hard never home, dearly departed
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| Orbiting, ours merkaba god, fuck Harvard
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| In suits I look garbage
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| I’m sorry, like new artist
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| But almost all of you awfuls should of died, when I said so last
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| Now heads roll, professional masked killer
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| Will is feral, when I go fast til' a boat with no motor
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| Adrift in a space lake, lifted in space based, base
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| Hastily wasting his grace on mahasabha taste
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| And if I moderation to follow a night
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| Bidibing, plan of my formidables, style fight
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| Dictionary dicks depict the sicker shit than they can ever be and be triumphant
|
| On top, Ong Bak a nigga trumpet
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| Knee-caps and elbows, to skull caps, and pell-hose, on Rodeo, on Melrose,
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| aw hell no…
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| Red fur impersonating Elmo, but this my world, Lalala, Lalalalalala
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| Lalala, LAAAAAUHHHHHHGH-
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| No that’s going to fuck it up!
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| Tsk, It’s not going, it’s not going to fuck it up!
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| It’s not going to fuck it up!
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| I swear that’s not what f- |