| My style’s aggressive like a pitbull terrier
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| Harder the sounds on wax, the more the merrier
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| Maestro, release this beat for me
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| See when I rhyme, I rig up bits and get paid easily
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| So gather 'round, listen to the flow
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| So I can prove, I’m the true Solo
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| MC’s grab my name and bit it poorly
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| Put it behind the name and ate it up like ravioli
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| OK, so I heard it with Red Alert and Chuck
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| A rapper said he went solo, I said «What The???»
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| My man came over and said «Yeah, we heard you»
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| Choke, son, you heard a bitin' ass crew
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| Some bit my name, I want it back
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| It’s a fact, P, tell 'em (Get The Bozack)
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| On the record, who do I stand for?
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| A rapper on the stage who gets one single applause
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| Give me a break, my brother, my name stands for Kevin
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| Self, Organization Left Others
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| My name’s no game for those who claim to use
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| My name in vein, 'cause their name sounds plain
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| I remain the flame, should my flow change
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| No, the name of the game, Solo will explain
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| I don’t know which way, rappers ran or came
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| I know the vein and I hate the name
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| Shame, playin' a game, they’re jokin' the same
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| They walk around puddles, knowin' the reign
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| With the cane, nothin' to gain
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| Shame, fast flows, and rhymes for Solo
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| Will get a rapper tame
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| The pain of no fame, no title to gain
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| Nobody but the real Solo to blame
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| Fake Solo’s and weak Solo’s, shut the hell up
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| And let the real solo stand up
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| PMD got a call from Alvin, they yell
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| «Solo, they’re puttin' your name on other rapper’s albums»
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| I said «No Joke», but your manager tells them
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| They put Solo on the record so all labels can sell 'em
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| People buy it, 'cause they’re not it
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| They get the record and find out, the Solo ain’t me
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| Some get mad, bringin' the record back
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| Yellin' «That ain’t the real Solo, I want my money back!»
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| He gives you the dough, you step to another row
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| Seein' a whole bunch of albums now that say «Solo»
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| Now you ask the man «Who's the real Solo?»
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| He sees so many fake ones, he just don’t know
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| He offers you then suddenly stops, and points
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| «That's the real Solo!» |
| 'cause K marks the spot
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| Put my jam to theirs and it won’t sound the same
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| The weak wick wack MC’s say my name in vein
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| To say my name in vein is like a swear
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| I get ya at a party, catch you out there
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| Fake Solo’s and weak Solo’s, shut the hell up
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| And let the real solo stand up
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| Under pressure, some fess, 'cause rappers are less
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| And not a fat sex shakin' in a dress
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| Regress, while I flex for the press
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| They had rest, and played battles on stress
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| Some need a rest, some gonna agress
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| Solo’s the best, put on a new rap prospect
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| What the heck, I’ll deck or peck, or make wreck
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| Any rapper, who don’t come correct
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| To me the fake Solo is an ornament hung on a wall
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| Shot a killed, a trohpy in a tournament
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| Yet still some rappers still front and act hard
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| Put deep down, they know they fall against their own odds
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| Rap is like them, I love to destroy
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| And rub their face in the dirt like a Tonka truck toy
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| Fake Solo’s and weak Solo’s, shut the hell up
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| And let the real solo stand up
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| 19−9-O, EPMD cold in effect, K-Solo
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| See ya wither, wither |