| Keep going up, keep going up
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| Lets see if we can do it, man, let’s see, watch
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| Tramp MCs, I turn into amputees, you ramming these fantasies
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| While I’m making cameras freeze, rapping in amber knees
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| Electricity couldn’t stand with me
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| So light spurts randomly land on my hand when I write and service lamps for me
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| Instantly my pen or my pencil be overcome with the propensity
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| To spin for three hours, building up energy
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| Infantries are crushed by the density
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| What interests me is relentlessly practicing tying my shoes mentally
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| My altitude and vision is exceptional
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| I can see every section through my special multidirectional spectacles
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| I keep intestinals as collectibles, plus the damage is irreparable
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| Then once I wreck you right there’s nothing left of you
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| In each place of my conscious state I freebase
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| And walk around with half of deep space inside a briefcase
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| I outrace these snakes in three shakes
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| And breeze past MC fakes easy wearing a concrete-based knee brace
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| The massive wrath of me in its totality is packed with accuracy
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| And rap daggers that’s flabbergasted your faculty
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| The rap he had for me was a travesty
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| And actually it’s sad ‘cause he was not the first to never see the last of me
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| My monograph’s forcasted bombastically
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| The one man staff that had the pain that he was in screaming in agony
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| I’m manufacturing sadness happily and mind-lifting gravity
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| While sipping on a gasoline daiquiri
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| Powerful tracks compacted with hours of facts
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| Defied logic when I snatched myself up out of a hat
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| You won’t win, incompetent men I’m stomping again
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| I didn’t drown in the quicksand, it sunk in my skin
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| I can straight create a verse 'til the paper hurts
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| Everyday eliminate the time you wake just to purposely make you late for work
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| I’m blasting this guy with a classic reply
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| My flames are strange, you don’t feel ‘em burn 'til after you die
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| We had to be fast in my PE class
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| Our feet had speed blast that we used to play overseas freeze tag
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| I crash into accidents, smashed ribs
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| Don’t exit tracks all at once, I’m dropping lead vocals, backs and ad-libs
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| I’m opening wounds and smokin' ya goons
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| My pictures don’t hang on the wall, they float in the room
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| I rest and summon my best 'til your lung is compressed
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| Dressed in a built-in bulletproof vest up under my flesh
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| The red rum will quickly come and leak from thee
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| And even if I wasn’t who I was, I would practice 'til I become me
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| Come in my office and talk with the grand exalted
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| My brain seven story walk-in closet
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| My greatest flow is to come, twenty rolled into one
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| Vocals I run are cold enough to make it snow on the Sun
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| The mic’s gravity snatches me like magnets attracting me
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| My cameras be bright enough to illuminate galaxies
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| I force clowns to wrap up in corpse shrouds
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| My voice is loud enough to stand on my porch and be heard on the Oort cloud
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| My sound growled 'til the whole town bowed
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| The crowds don’t gather around me, I gather around crowds
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| My stats be like that of a great athlete
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| Put me on a pitch black street with a pack of crack fiends hoping to jack me
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| Or the backseat of a runaway taxi full of rats with bad teeth
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| Tryna attack me and it still wouldn’t distract me
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| I deliver a rap then I’ll give you a slap
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| Across your cap, that’s so exact it makes your fibula snap
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| See I respond to ya by puncturing your cornea
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| Abnormal mental formulas confusing like dreaming you got insomnia
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| These rotten vipers want a title shot, it’s not every night I jot
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| But I’m more creative than a lot of y’all with writer’s block
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| My seven senses uplifted
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| So gifted that even my repetition is different
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| I around the Earth great
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| My elevator goes straight to the ninth floor without passing the first eight
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| I lit up the whole night with a speck of light
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| And set records by having fans recite complex lines that I’m yet to write
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| Facing K, that’s disintegration
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| I’ll chase your next life back to this one and then I switch ‘em,
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| backwards reincarnation
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| I’m breaking great time barrier records
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| By magically living 700 minutes per second
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| Talent heaven sent so I’m evicting the evil resident |
| I travel at F-111 speed when I’m hesitant
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| Spoke ferocious opuses at horrible doses
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| Post hypnotic suggestions before the hypnosis
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| I provide a dope vocal kaleidoscope, you hopelessly choke when I tie the rope
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| Even when I’m sleeping, I’m wide awoke
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| I hold a slew of new poems, dude
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| I wrote a few to show and prove so I’m underhandedly overthrowing you
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| I’m not a model, you volatile, I throttle
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| So hostile I make painkillers holler through the bottle
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| Can’t topple my knowledge if daily you swallowed you a novel
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| I’m philosophical but I don’t follow Aristotle
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| Please don’t be on the street when the heat come
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| 23 vehicles rolling up with me at the wheel of each one
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| I leap from thought with a deep plunge
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| I pick out your weak lung and run a straw through it like a Capri Sun
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| Peep the secretive mystique, he writes albums in his sleep
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| He completed at least eleven this week
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| His little scheme was negated
|
| ‘cause I had already premeditated the plans to the plan that he premeditated
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| Standing on a lyrical landscape
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| Jumping from outer space feet first, hoping to pancake a man’s face
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| Plus my handshakes make hands break, crumble like bran flakes
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| It only takes 3 shots to kill your fanbase |