| Hehe, gotta have flash and flare
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| Flamboyant on y’all
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| 9th, Wonder… L.E.G.A.C.Y…uh, Phonte
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| These rappers babble on how they time’ll come one day
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| That shit’ll never come like mail on a sunday
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| You lackin somethin, must be the flash or somethin
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| We love tainted, pure L.E.G.A.C.Y. |
| and Tay’ll get you
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| Frustrated, groups break up like B2K
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| Don’t care how you spit nigga, got +Flair+ like Rick nigga
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| Critics thought they sank me but I hold my float
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| They tried to hang me but I’m dope-on-a-rope
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| Doom style, get on stage and boo the crowd
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| From my throne patient, hold my own like masturbation
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| I, let off, look on but L.E.G's off
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| Reachin for figures, the Feidian chips
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| I’m diarrhea nigga, you ain’t ready for this shit
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| Stop you dead in your tracks, what’s f’in with dat?
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| I wish a muh’fucker WOULD, shit I’m that fuckin good
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| Come stocked with raps but you gotta have flash
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| You, got to have FLASH, and FLAIR
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| Uh, give it to me now.
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| Fucked up, brah…
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| They never shoulda gave us niggas MONEY!
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| What about yo' raps Phonte, and, Big Pooh, 9th Wonder and L.E.G.A.C-eeeeeeeey!
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| Uh, excuse me playa, no I don’t mean to bother ya
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| But just in case the beat is hittin too hard for you
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| Just know, Phonte is doin his job, cause I
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| Stay on the scene like cinematographers
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| This is not a game, this a whole 'nother conference
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| I done, greeted and meet and thoughts is sharper now
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| Niggas got questions like Barbara Walters
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| While the so-called playas pro’lly won’t even talk to us
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| Phonte is rap for real, ya Massengill
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| Just thespians in the Screen Actors Guild
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| I really wanna re-lax and chill
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| But y’all fuckers gon' make me relapse for real
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| And take it back to '98 on you niggas
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| When I was straight disablin niggas
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| Iron Mics, 1st place, Cats-Cradling niggas
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| I ain’t got time to play witchu niggas
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| For now that’s all I gotta say to you niggas
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| This is history in the making and y’all’s ain’t been made yet
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| This is the single the radio ain’t played yet
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| Tay is not a safe bet, Raleigh niggas tried to carry me
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| But, I’m already at my Apex, holla!
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| You, got to have FLASH, and FLAIR
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| Younahmsayin?
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| Niggas tryna get on the mic
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| With all that goddamn rappity-rappity-rappin-and-rappin and all that shit.
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| With no flash, no emotion, no passion, no conviciton.
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| Nigga, you just a talking head!
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| And meanwhile, I’m holla’n at’cha girl, and she talkin head
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| Yanahmsayin, c’mon!
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| «OOOOOOOOOOOOOH, OOOH, OOH, RAHH, AHH!!» |