| Daz:
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| Aw yeah!
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| Right about now it’s time to get busy
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| Huh, straight out the box, nonstop
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| Kurupt the kingpin, xzibit, crooked i
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| (wait a minute, um)
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| Crooked i:
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| This is the art of, manslaughter
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| When i’m rockin’i’m more shockin’than droppin’a boom box in bath water
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| You entered the wrong scuffle
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| You catchin’a chrome buckle
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| I uppercut niggas hard enough to break my own knuckles
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| Deliver the sick verbals
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| My shotty spit a round, before you hit the ground,
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| Your body spin around, in six circles
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| Diminishin’infamous menaces
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| I’m waitin’to get dicced, if not, i’m a start finishin’innocents
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| Lyrics (lyrics), i’m breezin the region
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| Freezin g’s in your legion
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| Freakin’ancient techniques when i’m speakin’phoenician
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| It’s all about crooked
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| These bitches shout crooked
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| I’ll make you say the west coast aint shit without crooked
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| I own a vicious label, niggas’ll get disabled
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| When i’m spittin’rhymes written on project kitchen tables
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| I load this 4−5 and let slugs dive at ya Now that’s for crooked i, the scrap happy, mic snatcha
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| Daz:
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| Motherfuccers can you dig that, huh?
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| Can you fucc with this?
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| Let’s get kurupt the kingpin to fucc y’all niggas up
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| Y’all don’t wanna see none of this west coast mc shit
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| Yeah, how you like me now motherfucker!?!
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| Kurupt:
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| Terror starts, in the midst of your heart, starts
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| The storm, my vocals float like arts
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| In the mystic state of mind, when i create a rhyme
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| My microphone massacres every year the same time
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| With audio amputations, vocal thoughts of a loud talker
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| Up against the microphone night stalker
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| With a tendency of bashing mcs, like ten of me As you can see i continue mashin’mcs
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| Caboom, the room gets cleared as my views get clearer
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| Extra-terrestrial microphone terror
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| In effect, get infected
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| Tell me what the fucc you expected
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| These venemous injections
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| I leave whole sections, and sections full of injections
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| From these poisenous melodies and selections
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| I select the methods of slow anguish
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| I mangle shit with my language
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| Tell me, have you ever seen one elope
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| With the microphone
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| In a scandal like abilities to make mcs explode
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| Baboom, alone in my own zone
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| So don’t compare me to none
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| Not one’s nearly
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| Severe, cuz i severely, impare mcs
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| Near me, oppose and fear me, i got plots and theories
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| Sincerely, i could have the spot locked
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| Niggas get stoned for touching microphones
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| With no knowledge on how to rock
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| Daz:
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| Yeah, back in effect, it don’t stop
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| Turn your speakers up, dj battlecat on the table
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| We fuckin’it up like this and like that, yeah
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| Got my homeboy xzibit in the motherfuccin’house
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| Alkaholiks!
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| Xzibit:
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| When i was enlisted
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| I came to the table double fisted
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| Sadistic, heavy artillery, for all my enemies
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| Bust shots up in the sky screamin’obsenities
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| Make niggas sport cackies and chucks from hear to italy
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| It’ll be, a cold day in hell when you see xzibit fail
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| Act like a bitch on bail, tuck tail, and run
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| See we do it how it can’t be done
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| I’m the rough cut, plus how the west was won
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| Or direct descendant of the gatling gun
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| Don’t test me son, you fucc around and catch you one
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| That aint a threat, that’s a promise i can definitely keep
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| You can’t compete wit'25 niggas wit’heat in the street
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| Ready to repeat, round after after round at you
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| All hell break lose when the whole pound come through
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| I found that you and yours, can never fucc wit’mine
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| I own shit but gimme some more like busta rhymes
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| Cross the line, now you gotta pay the piper
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| I’m the alkaholik sniper, that be keepin’the crowds hyper
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| It’s ashes to ashes and dust to dust
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| Can’t stop till me and my niggas is platinum plus
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| My dogg kurupt
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| Daz:
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| Yeah, no shit
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| Yeah, y’all can’t fucc wit’that
|
| That’s what i’m talkin’about
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| West coast, we been doin’this shit for years
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| Aint nothin’happenin’wit’that
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| Battlecat
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| (don't step up)
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| Right, right
|
| (don't step up, unles you wanna get hurt)
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| Huh, huh, huh
|
| (get get get get hurt)
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| Whatcha say
|
| Motherfuccas that be hangin’in the battle
|
| (get hurt, get get get get hurt)
|
| That’s what i’m talkin’about
|
| Daz dillinger
|
| (don't step up, unless you wanna get hurt)
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| Break it down, break it down
|
| Huh
|
| (mixed with battlecat’s scratching)
|
| Motherfuccas can’t fade this shit |