| Yo you get hit like surface-to-air missiles, get crashed like Zildjian cymbals
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| My aura is a force-field that can withstand pistols
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| And nuclear payloads that erase whole continents
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| Turn global occupants to smouldering apocalypse
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| Coka inclined to pain, Coka and the Hologram
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| Broken Bottle Gang, buck-fifty you in Rotterdam
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| My goons are carnivores and outlaws that start wars
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| Scarred yours like dartboards, drop you where the sharks swarm
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| Sub-zero freezing weather, gun below the Peewee sweater
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| Shoot lead, green Beretta, you dead, we forever
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| Spaz with the Uzi, hold the chromey to peel
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| Uncle Howie bragged he used to do coke with Toni Tennille
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| Flame with the molotov, common place like date rapes in college dorms
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| I make the planet rock like Afrika Bambaataa songs
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| Die effective martyrs, deaded for doom
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| Coka Kings riot tested Armageddon approved
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| This Coka Kings, hard body shit, you know that we a problem
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| Coka Kings, the dope stuff
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| 9-lethal rap, Pazienza, Coka Nos'
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| Three murderers, father and son and holy ghost
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| Dig a hole, carry the head of a Trojan goat
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| My voice carry the power that’s from Jehovah’s throat
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| Pazienza paranoid so the toaster’s close
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| Premonition of pain inside the vulture’s cloak
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| My cousin Lethal cut it up like it was soap and coke
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| The fat bastard a track master like?
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| My bitch carry my hat on her side, a Burberry bag
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| I leave you covered in shells like you a hermit crab
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| Steadfast and bled fast when the curtain dragged
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| The haze of infatuation of smoking dirt and skag
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| Cock the motherfucking Glock, good riddance
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| Make this motherfucker rock like if Pac was spitting
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| God-forbidden, put a hole inside your fitted
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| Take your head with your conscious in it
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| I’m a G
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| This Coka Kings, hard body shit, you know that we a problem
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| Coka Kings, the dope stuff
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| I’m a political prisoner living on this criminal planet
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| Animal chemical mixologist, my confidence is brimming
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| Goddamn it more prominence, escalating to a dominance
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| The high exalted kingdom of Slaine, the slang poet
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| The AA, the anonymous, IRA conglomerate
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| Bombing it, fuck it I’m old school, I stay with that atomic shit
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| Keep lighting the dust bone when you hit it cause the embalming’s wet
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| Your dos is don’ts and you ain’t got out of your pajamas yet
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| My ego’s bigger than Obama’s lips
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| My lips spit verses of controversy with no mercy, yous are counterfeits
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| Your money’s no good over this way, it don’t amount to shit
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| My respect’s my currency, go ahead, try and count the bills
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| I stack federal notes, you say the angel’s just dangerous
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| But I didn’t tell you the devil is dope
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| Ask the heroin shooters, nothing like a rush in the vein
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| Fuck I’m insane, still stuck in this illustrious pain |