| While you aim to maintain the status quo
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| Embody the persona of the average joe
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| Me and Herbal T and the Lack of Fro are less rational
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| We international
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| To reiterate in case you’re a little late
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| I incinerate fakes on my dinner plate
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| We hungry, but ya’ll gon' starve the hardest
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| Cause we stay well fed eating starvin' artists
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| I’m a veteran authority better than the majority
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| Of all the mothafuckas that ever been in the door of the industry
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| I’m what you pretend to be
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| Half of you mothafuckas sound like shit to me
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| That’s why I have no sympathy
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| That’s why I take a shit in your stocking, and burn down your Christmas tree
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| Poof, you’re done, ya’ll history
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| I’m the truth behind the unsolved mystery
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| I’m the epitome of victory
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| Instinctively, I rip emcees
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| And spit the remains out, all over the floor
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| It’s Big Wax mothafucka thought I told you before
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| I’m on a whole different level than ya’ll, leveling ya’ll
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| Like a medicine ball, hitting you dead in the jaw
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| We ready to brawl, you delicate soft, you gon' lose it
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| Herbal T ride the mic and get stupid
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| Learn to be original
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| Herbs an individual
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| Nerds, are typical hypocritical pitiful minimal
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| Impact makers, get to back breaking
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| Hard work it takes to get to that place
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| Where you can do whatever you want and still kill it
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| Pass your prescription bottle and we’ll fill it
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| Up with the true party music from the soul ya’ll
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| Wax, Herbal T, LOA, is the roll call
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| I thought I told ya’ll not to press your luck
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| Like tentacles of an octopus, you suck
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| Straight trash, throw your CD in a waste basket
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| Or I’mma cover your mouth with tape fast
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| And pipe down your shitty talk
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| Them brothers fly like Orville and Wilbur right down to Kitty Hawk
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| And just when ya’ll assholes thought that ya’ll was on top
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| Lack of Afro brought that
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| Fall back when he lay the drum track
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| The bass on the joint on point like a thumbtack
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| Crews come whack cause some lack the focus
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| And if they fall off a come back it’s hopeless
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| Unpack the dopeness stored in my brain
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| Dear lord I’m insane
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| If you a dope fiend put my microphone cord in your vein
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| And soon you’ll be high like you’re boarding a plane |