| New Line Cinema, presents the Dark Road
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| Starring, Jean Claude Van Damme
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| With Wesley Snipes, Morgan Freeman, Kool Keith
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| Robin Williams, with special guests
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| No Name and Knobody, from Thee Undatakerz
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| Dark Road, coming February 22nd at a theater near you
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| I’m tired of rap, I don’t even like makin records no more
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| I quit, y’all don’t know, a long time ago
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| I’d rather hang in strip clubs in Detroit and Chicago
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| I hate lookin at rappers who freestyle
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| Walkin around the same block, they still gonna be there tomorrow
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| Battle back and forth, East South West and North
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| With 40 thousand records I don’t need to record no more
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| Two million or better, three on tour
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| Nothin to prove, live in the Bronx, y’all show me hardcore
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| Been around Europe, all over the United States
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| Jay-Z, Rakim, KRS, you ask Big Daddy Kane
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| I’m Artis Gilmore, block shots everybody comin down the middle lane
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| Promoters don’t call me no more
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| Gun toters will call you when I’m poor
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| Walk up to your Bentley, get out, everybody get on the floor
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| Whether actor or singer, you could be extra
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| And feel the tec-9 texture
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| With ups on skinny legs, baldhead like Patterson Projects
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| Nate Archibald, y’all think I’m Clyde Drexler
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| Walk up to your radio station with sawed-offs, speak with the Winchester
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| We about gainin, reignin
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| Puttin in pain in, tamin
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| Who’s rappin lame and, playin
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| We about gainin, reignin
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| Puttin in pain in, tamin
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| Who’s rappin lame and, playin
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| Now, let’s let the session, keep verbally manifestin
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| Ain’t no question, how many niggas we nut testin
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| Burn Krush Groove, wettest loop, don’t know why you mask too
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| Nobody and ain’t nobody comin with it so keep second guessin
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| 110 let the games begin
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| Another rhyme leave 'em all behind
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| Live on stage or any other time
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| You can not affect me
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| Messed you up when you found out that nobody was carin
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| Now feel me, kill 'em though, Ms. Ghetto Phenomenal
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| Bangin on those that oppose this
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| Vocally chose, who got the flows, can you handle those?
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| Bringin heat from the streets of S.C., that’s me
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| Niggas be tryin to see me, but they can’t get with me
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| Now what?
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| Well it’s the Mistress, blowin in like El Nino
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| Throwin blows to yo' cerebral
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| Ms. Kill 'Em Though, Ms. Ghetto Phenomenal
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| Bangin on those that oppose this
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| Vocally chose, who got the flows, can you handle those?
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| Bringin heat from the streets of S.C., that’s me
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| Niggas be tryin to see me, but they can’t get with me
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| Stop all the silly games, suck my gat if you hatin
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| I don’t care if you rich famous, I’ll still send you down to Satan
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| Breakin all public laws just to get my paws on a grip
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| I’m a dog from L.A. streets, but I still love runnin with crips
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| Runnin with clips, fully loaded, automatic, without no tips
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| Them hollow point silver bullets, that’ll bust yo' head if you trip
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| I’m on a West coast mission, we throw my set up in yo' face
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| Got a problem let me know right now and we can go settle it Ace
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| I move with Manny Green, B-Stro Brown, Thug Life Mopreme
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| Razor Blade, Major Seven, Mean Yo and Big Chachi
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| Future Free from the pen, we hit the streets like gorillas
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| Knuckles scrape across the concrete, we on the hunt to get mo' scrilla
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| With Thee Undatakerz, monster like Godzillas on the mic
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| You wanna see us, you might die, whether day or night
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| Now scatter the light, but we still come out when it’s dark
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| Vampires stalk the streets, alleys of L.A. to New York
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| (Central Park, what?) |