| Better back up off me dog
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| You better not get too close
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| U don’t wanna get too bold
|
| The rhythm, the rhyme, is mind control
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| The grit and the grime; |
| that’s Mighty Mo
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| All competition has gots to go
|
| Lock and I load the flow
|
| Cock and unload my glow
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| Spit 'em the deadliest venom they’ll ever experience yo
|
| Lyrical pro
|
| Still got a criminal glow
|
| Hit 'em with a critical blow
|
| Singing most subliminal, oh no
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| As if a nigga really don’t know
|
| We hit it for sure
|
| When they ask how fast I go
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| I tell 'em like H2O
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| Steadily willing and deadly now
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| So tell 'em to listen to my battle cry
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| Nigga my methods too wreckless to handle
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| Too treacherous to fathom
|
| It’s best ya don’t get your death wish soon answered
|
| I’m one of the baddest, illest and maddest MC’s out there, never
|
| Will there be another rapper this clever
|
| Cause nobody does it better
|
| Murda murda murda murda mo
|
| Still active
|
| It’s still maddness
|
| Still I pack that steel, still will blast it
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| I’m back and I’m giving 'em what they’ve been missing
|
| Stop ! |
| Look ! |
| Listen !
|
| Them niggas ain’t coming back after this one
|
| Apply the pressure, pressure, pressure (8x)
|
| We coming for battle, we sent to attack em, we stay on the offense
|
| And we coming to murk all the non-sense
|
| With a flow that’s so deadly conceiving myself that it’s haunted
|
| And the rhythm is conscious
|
| All of you rappers are harmless
|
| So we treat them like garbage
|
| Not even considered artist
|
| Really they fraudulent
|
| Not hard to hit
|
| So pause with that
|
| Come over here and get all of this
|
| But suckers that’s faking, That’s all you get
|
| I’m breaking the pressure, Your palms is wet
|
| Cause I’m the shit
|
| When I bomb ya clique, ya click
|
| My nigga your dead
|
| So cancel the ambulance
|
| Send them a hearse
|
| Lyrical armageddon, dead nigga you had ya chance
|
| Now I gotta get 'em with the math flow fast
|
| If y’all really don’t wanna know, don’t ask
|
| When they try to keep up with the song, don’t drag
|
| I never stop, I just roll past
|
| Put your weight on it, lay on it, stay on it
|
| Let ya’ll play on it, I take it back now cause Kray own that
|
| Murda mo, Murda mo, they don’t know I kill a… Bitch
|
| With a style so beast I labelled it gorilla
|
| Stop (Stop) Look (Look) Listen (Listen)
|
| Them niggas ain’t coming back after this one
|
| I look at my competition through a microscope
|
| Before I kill them on the microphone
|
| Hit 'em with a hypnotizing tone
|
| I’m ready to fight and deny my throne
|
| To any rapper trying to play in my lane
|
| Around the block, a nigga got aim
|
| You outta my state but still in my range
|
| So tryin to escape is only in vain
|
| And I know my craze
|
| It’s hard to contain
|
| I’m like a disease
|
| That spread through the veins
|
| Blow harder than a breeze
|
| I’m more like a hurricane
|
| You heard me, man?
|
| I’m leaving you niggas like Razzle Dazzle
|
| In the battle I’m leaving them babble, hear rattle
|
| With a style so natural
|
| It’s classic just like afro
|
| Through the back door I creep up on 'em
|
| Pull out my heat then bust on 'em
|
| Lick shots to the beat, dump dump on 'em
|
| Go home cause you don’t want it
|
| So many niggas that try to get with it but they never make it, they fall
|
| I’m taking it higher, they ain’t on my level, Kray Jack ain’t got time to be
|
| dealing with y’all
|
| Still the killa (Still the killa)
|
| It’s still all about that murda (Bloody murda)
|
| The bloody bloody murda
|
| Stop (Stop)
|
| Look (Look)
|
| Listen (Listen)
|
| Them niggas ain’t coming back after this one |