| Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol
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| Your mind, body, and soul
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| For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode
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| Big, bad, and bold b-boys of old
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| Many styles we hold, let the story be told
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| Whether platinum or gold, we use breath control
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| So let the beat unfold, intro on drum roll
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| We be the Lik like E, Tash, and J-Ro
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| We harass niggas like we was the po-po
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| We can rule the world without Kurtis and still Blow
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| Finesse, from SP to Casio
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| Your jams ain’t def, you ain’t fresh, you’re so-so
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| If you don’t know us by now you’ll never know
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| You set that mood when we groove and prove a show
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| The name of the game is survive and prove your flow
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| You can’t out take Jurassic syllable
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| Cause it’s survival of professional radio
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| Stop and comprehend and heed the words of my pen
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| Survival of professional poetical Highlanders
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| (Soup, you plan on rocking something fierce?) Oh, am I
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| Zaakir’s the name, the A.K.A. |
| super
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| The verbal acupunture from the dope old schooler
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| I used to be the brother for others that used to dumb on
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| Now they be the lovers of brothers that can’t front on
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| Put me in the mix, LP 12-inch
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| SP, the elegant, poetic pestulence
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| I’m carbonated, the Fanti-confederated
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| Highly commemorated, and the most celebrated
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| For connecting it (Word!) Like verb subject to the predicate
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| Plus I got the etiquette
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| To keep it moving, and showing cats how it’s done
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| Cause it’s the verbal combat, position number one
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| We keep it beaming like a beacon, if it’s clearance that you’re seeking
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| Whether black or Puerto Rican, people back us when we’re speaking
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| We got the kind of rhymes that get you ready for the weekend
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| (To the mass amount of legions that came for party pleasing)
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| Our temperature is freezing all kind of different regions
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| The rhythm is the reason you’re checking for what we’ve done
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| Please son, our thesis, will rip your crew in pieces
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| Your rhymes ain’t ripe, homeboy, you ain’t in season
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| Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol
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| Your mind, body, and soul
|
| For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode
|
| Big, bad, and bold b-boys of old
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| Yo, yo, well it’s the angelic man-relic clan repellent
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| My plan parent manuscripts withstand bullets
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| Flashing like a Japan tourist, we command pure hits
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| While you cramming to understand these contraband lyrics
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| My fam submits to pray, 5 times a day
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| Climbing into your mind with live rhyme display
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| J5 finds a way to remain supreme
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| Coming verbally Hardison as if my name was Kadeem
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| Ayo my team Dreamworks without Spielberg or spill words
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| Communicate from the Earth throughout the universe
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| I transmit, transcipts, transcontinental lyrics
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| Deeply rooted in your spirit
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| Up, I love the power of words, nouns and verbs
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| The pen and the sword, linguistic Art of War
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| No folklore or myths in my penmanship
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| The path of Scholar Warriors is what I present, uh
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| Verbally decapitating those against a
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| Jihad fi sabilillah, my words make sense
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| She gots to get up on your vocab, you gots to have vocab
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| Letters makes words, and sentences makes paragraphs
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| Yo, I make the pen capsize, the verbal with the planted eyes
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| Planning knives ever pair that I utilize
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| Spit juice, crack blood from your tooth
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| Inflict truths, speak Allah’s 99 attributes
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| You baby MC’s drink Pedialyte
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| While underground doesn’t like you, the media might
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| But we the defeat will change that
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| As we bridge gaps in this lyrical grudge match, brothers we slug back
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| Yeah, we bless tracks with the help of a raw rap
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| Inprinted like poor tracks all over your brain rack
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| My mental maneuver will clear and steer right through ya
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| We Grand like Puba, understand that we move ya
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| Ayo, my rhythm reveal rollercoaster real deal
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| Revolutionize with active build
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| I plant my dreams in the field and wait to harvest my skills
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| For the starving MC, hungry trying to get a meal
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| Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol
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| Your mind, body, and soul
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| For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode
|
| Big, bad, and bold b-boys of old
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| We’re going to take a trip back in time
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| Are you ready to get into your time machine
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| Ok, fasten you sealt belts
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| Are you ready?
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| Let’s go |