| Well here I am, the funky man wit the ill manner
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| Don’t spasm, cuz I be y’all bad mamma jamma
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| I told ya couldn’t fuck wit me, nanananana
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| I turn Incredible Hulk back into David Bammer
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| I am a slammin this shit just like a human hammer
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| And rock suits from Timbuktu to Alabama
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| Is the matter, and chocolate here comes the sword
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| Hit us hard, but now we livin large, oh my God
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| Yo it’s on, movin in like Desert Storm
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| Droppin bombs, ring the alarm, where’s my bong?
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| Light it up, cuz I’mma smoke shit just like a Gemini
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| For niggas who don’t remember, yo Mo Bee
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| Make it easy, girls wanna seize me
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| Believe me, it’s the same shit at the 6 G
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| Harvard tactics, breakin niggas backwards
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| The Zoo stickin niggas like cactus, for practice
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| These fake rappers, try to chill and make a pill
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| Knowin they ain’t real, knowin they ain’t got skills
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| I’m from the Hill, where niggas go to toe to toe
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| In other words, no flows on the rodeo
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| Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
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| Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo
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| Yippeekiyay, yippee yay, yippee yo |
| Yo, no flows on the rodeo
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| Holy cow, the kangaroo, they let the wildest nigga out the Zoo
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| It’s the bird who flew the coup on the first scoop
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| Who blew the roof? |
| Poof, straight into the Mystics
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| Super sadistic, I’m butter like a biscuit
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| Oh shit kid, watch the sonic boom get boomer
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| I flip hits and shits, and free my kazoomas
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| On like Pumas, and niggas can’t throw me out
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| Cuz the rhymes I give’ll get ya dick hard like pencil stout
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| Shout, a little bit louder now
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| Who’s that nigga goin, aow, aow
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| Style, makes me superhyginetic
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| Fuck athletics, I’m dope and poetic
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| Forget it, cuz niggas don’t want none
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| Can’t get none, probably done before they see the outcome
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| The Drum, is the constant beat in my ear
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| The Warrior, is me, because I have no fear
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| I sware, to my little seed, take heed
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| Cuz in this rap shit, I’mma succeed and smoke weed
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| And get lifted, high as a kite
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| You can’t fuck wit the rhymes I write
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| So you write, tonight’s the night
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| I’m ready to fight, it’s on and it’s war
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| I turn, I shoot, I score
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| I’m like a threat to a needle, make more hits than Beatles |
| And stay sharp like a church steeple
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| For my people, I gotta put 'em on somehow
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| Is the faces you meet up, is the ones you meet goin down?
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| Bow, I’m blowin up spots this year
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| I don’t care, so rollin up the owls in the stairs
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| Be prepared, for all types of shit like this
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| Hits after hits, it can only be Black Fist
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| Shit, what you thinkin
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| The reason, I’m the shit is cuz I’m stinkin
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| Ya niggas is dead like Abe Lincoln
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| I’m thinkin, I’m a fuckin master plan
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| It be the man, that made me the man that I am
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| God damn, the nigga slams like NBA Jam
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| Tryin to battle me, is tryin to drown Aquaman
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| It couldn’t happen, I’m still on the Staten
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| Still rappin, still keepin the crowd clappin
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| I’m blastin, all up in the like a shuttle
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| Makin other rap squads go in a huddle, leave a puddle
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| Of blood for my niggas lock down, one love
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| For you niggas who don’t like me, blaow, catch a slug
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| What, '95
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| No one survive |