| For so long that things have been out of my reach
|
| But now I’ve learned the game and I’m playing for keeps
|
| Yoou-hooou
|
| Yoou hooou
|
| It’s the philosophies of possible cheese
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| Let’s get some profit’s from these prophecies
|
| Swapping some g’s for DVD’s, oversees properties
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| Making sure the vocals dropping on the keys properly
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| Get it popping in this monopoly
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| Nobody stopping me, cause my mission is set
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| Ain’t got no listeners yet
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| Peep the ignition, cannabis in effect
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| Missing respect, my position is set, and the conditions reflect
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| My coalitions when we piss on cassettes
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| Yo I ain’t dissing but yo’re slack, folks are falling for crap
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| You can’t be serious, you call that rap? |
| Sure that’s fat?
|
| I bought it but I brought it back, I can’t afford a supporter-cap
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| Run recorders till the mortar cracks, making daugters clap
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| Game like a quarterback, with portable facts
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| Vagabond in orbital laps, absorbing the map
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| We moving till we on top
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| Getting my shit from the pawn shop
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| As soon as this f*cking song drops
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| And we’re moving on up, it’s our time to shine
|
| Blasting J’s in your face and we pass it round
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| Now I know you’re hating on me though
|
| Who knew that we was bout the dough for show
|
| I’m like a wolf among sheep, it’s on me I’m hungry
|
| Stepping on hands and toes pardon me baby
|
| Gotta eat, I feel you hating on me though
|
| Why me? |
| coz only big dogs can roll
|
| You’re like an old can of coke, buzz already dead
|
| Kleen Cut, Paperboys, and it’s over your head
|
| We f*ck making noise, live for dough
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| Do a free show? |
| How I gon supply my ho?
|
| She is high maitainence, I got five fake friends
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| Talking all nice, but they don’t make sense
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| I’ve never seen your face, but you wanna shake hands
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| It’s all good, got nothing but love for fans
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| Y’all like beast, use roars and growls, forcing howls
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| Kleen Cut never caused a fowl
|
| Get strict saying f*ck you’s with nouns and vowels
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| Never loose, so I don’t need towels
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| I don’t fold I’m pleased to say
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| Get home write rhymes that seems to pay
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| You know the shit’s over when you hear that sound. |
| *huh huh*
|
| We moving up and you just went down
|
| We’re moving on up, it’s our time to shine
|
| Blasting J’s in your face and we pass it round
|
| Now I know you’re hating on me though
|
| Who knew that we was bout the dough for show
|
| I’m like a wolf among sheep, it’s on me I’m hungry
|
| Stepping on hands and toes pardon me baby
|
| Gotta eat, I feel you hating on me though
|
| Why me? |
| coz only big dogs can roll
|
| Ey yo, thinking may hurt, don’t do to much of it
|
| I’m Kleen Cut, that’s who you f*cking with
|
| Crunk it up, Y’all know y’all loving it
|
| You know what? |
| What you got, you’re struck with it
|
| Yeah, you ain’t gon change at all
|
| While I just got better, new name and all:
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| They call me sharpshooter, Kleen-Eastwood, J-letter
|
| Nice flow, who the f*ck sounds better?
|
| Shit I’m spelling to cross elements, yelling like lost elephants
|
| Sell’em some force, tell’em of course we floss elegance
|
| Meddle with boss-pelicans, secret intelligence
|
| And I dwell on my tours relevance, creeping through settlements
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| And I’m peeping on sleeping residents, wake’em up
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| Whoever’s fronting, tape him shut
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| Keep’em jumping, show them how to make a cut
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| These haters are fake as f*ck, got no problem burning my bridges
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| They better chill before we turn’em religious
|
| I ain’t earning no digits, ain’t a happy man, still I’m making it happen
|
| The capitan, killing tracks in front of clapping fans
|
| Rappers like a factory brand, we ship’em back to Japan
|
| They can’t f*ck with this immaculate scam!
|
| We’re moving on up, it’s our time to shine
|
| Blasting J’s in your face and we pass it round
|
| Now I know you’re hating on me though
|
| Who knew that we was bout the dough for show
|
| I’m like a wolf among sheep, it’s on me I’m hungry
|
| Stepping on hands and toes pardon me baby
|
| Gotta eat, I feel you hating on me though
|
| Why me? |
| coz only big dogs can roll
|
| We’re moving on up, it’s our time to shine
|
| Blasting J’s in your face and we pass it round
|
| Now I know you’re hating on me though
|
| Who knew that we was bout the dough for show
|
| I’m like a wolf among sheep, it’s on me I’m hungry
|
| Stepping on hands and toes pardon me baby
|
| Gotta eat, I feel you hating on me though
|
| Why me? |
| coz only big dogs can roll |