| Boom bow, my style be oww
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| I be comin down wit that funky Shao'
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| Boom bow, my style be oww
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| On the real, who can fuckin freak wit this style
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| Oww, wow, just like some animals in the zoo
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| Monkey, vulture, rat, dog and kangaroo
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| When our styles combine we might rhyme
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| This unknown to mankind and deeper than the human mind
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| Rewind, see if you can catch what I said
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| Front chump, and then be like 18 in ya fuckin head
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| Mr. Pirate, rip and I fly shit
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| I kick shit wit my Jedi Mind Tricks
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| Mamma mia, Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia Pet, it’s a must
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| That I catch wreck on ya set
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| I’m blowin rappers out the frame
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| It’s a new year, a new rhyme, and ain’t a damn thing fuckin change
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| Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice
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| And I appear from the rear, Shaolin we in here
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| A lotta rappers be fakin jacks
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| Comin up wit wack tracks and they think they all that
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| But I attack, those who try to steal my flow
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| Body blow, talkin shit without a video
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| Heya ho, I made a disc for her
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| Wit Profes, Leatha Face, Slasher and the Star
|
| Aw, back to the ancient roots |
| Rollin gooks, and we roll the fuck out just like troops
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| Toxic fumes, all I smell is terror, doom
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| Who got flames, so I can get smoked in the patted room
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| Boom, my single drop and now I’m hear
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| It’s amazin, they didn’t fuckin pop shit last year
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| Them sound like them, I and I sound like I
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| Pass the ti', yo why must stay try
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| To go against where do the hell do you represent?
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| Shaolin, Killa Hill residence, nigga
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| I go wabble on ya ass, and burn muthafuckas up just like backdraft
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| Splash into some shit from the shitter
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| Super rhyme hitter, money gettin ass nigga
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| I figure that you ain’t got the wits to match this
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| You’re style is pussy, I’mma fuck it over like a mattress
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| Black Fist, a new way of music
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| You choose it, don’t confuse it, or reuse it
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| Cuz if you do, I’m gonna come thru from the Zoo
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| From the Shaolin, nigga, you know, who
|
| Pass the Meth, so I can get bait
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| I’m hittin June by the River, slayin Ricki by the Lake
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| Take, a good look at what you see
|
| I’mma threat to the industry, until infinity
|
| Take, a good look at what you see |
| I’mma threat to the industry, until infinity
|
| Who wants to test these dark waters?
|
| I’mma slaughter, competition, man listen
|
| On donor, on dancin, on blitzin
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| Friction, static, tragic, it’s magic
|
| I brainstorm and my war becomes havoc
|
| Burn to plastic, on anything I wrap on
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| I last long, cuz my long niggas ain’t strong
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| Enough, so call my bluff, yo E, this shit is rough
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| Flyin fist style, wit fuckin uppercuts
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| Hadooken, I must got drunk wit the allergies
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| Baby Pa ridiculous just like bounty
|
| So watch me, blow this roof off this mother
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| Yo lover, I think it’s time to go deep cover
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| And smother the real from the fake
|
| I cut the tongue off a snake, and I throw it in a Lake
|
| I await, bake the cow, it’s the style
|
| It’s the style? |
| Man, it’s gotta be the style
|
| Cuz I keep hittin you wit hits and shit
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| On that first shit, to that last shit
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| On that other shit, what ever kin
|
| If you wanna, bring it on
|
| I’mma don, plus I got it goin on
|
| Word is bond, sing the song of the King
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| And his Soldier friends, aah
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| I thought this track would never end |