| The song ends and we must begin again
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| Illmind, playin the sad songs, won’t be no sad song tonight baby
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| There will be no sad songs tonight, as we begin to give you something new
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| Ladies and gentlemen, I wanna thank y’all for tuning in This is Chitlin Circuit 1.5
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| I go by the name, Phontigga Phonte, I got a couple of names
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| My partner Rapper, Rapper Big Pooh, Pooh, he got a couple of names too
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| 9th Wonder, 9th Wond-raw, he got a couple of names
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| Illmind on the track, we gon’get it goin, let me slide into it Check it out, uh Check Tigallo up your the spot, he’s so flagrant
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| Bitch, my love sign reads no vacancy
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| You might as well consider yourself vagrant
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| This is for those that said we wouldn’t make it And didn’t understand how far we that would take it Sittin back thinkin in amazement
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| Tryna figure out where their days went
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| That’s why me and Pooh stick to the basics
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| Young’n just face it, the game need a facelift
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| Some things rearrange, some will shape shift
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| Cut and paste this, there’s some cottonmouth niggas who should taste this
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| I’m Terry Tate on the mic, come face this
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| Got to go all in ya truck like a U-Haul
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| Me and 'Te do y’all, you don’t want it on the mic, nigga screw y’all
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| I heard your record and you sound better than who y’all?
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| It’s something new, you better believe
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| Feels so good to me, it’s the beginning
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| It’s the start of something new, feels so good to me You better believe it’s the beginning
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| We bout to get it started right now y’all, uh Check Tigallo up your spot, he’s still stunnin
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| Wifey talkin bout she still cuming
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| Cause I hit her off with different strokes like Phil Drummond
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| You don’t want beef cause they will run in Your crib and bounce with the metre still runnin
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| Don’t get it confused, them LB dudes
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| Do get down and for that crown I’m still gunnin
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| This is real young’n
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| So let me tell you somethin
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| It’s a hundred verses runnin, Poobie still gunnin
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| For that number one spot, and shit won’t stop
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| Till I’m from the plannin cemented at the top
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| Drop me never, I’m as good as it get
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| Grip like pliers on your television sets
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| While you’re all upset I’m just speaking the facts
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| Getting bent out of shape, you don’t know how to act
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| Niggas, I’m just talking bout rap
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| Uh, last time around, yo Check Tigallo up in your spot, he’s so drastic
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| His stage presence ain’t wrapped too tight
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| It seems larger than life and he appears so massive
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| That’s why you bastards like to watch me Cause I rhyme so classic like Tchaikovsky
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| And I ain’t thinkin bout no paparazzi
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| Big Dough go and pop the 'razzi nigga
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| Cause this is celebration
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| With the beats and the rhymes and we elevatin
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| And all the people, I can tell they waitin
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| My right hand so devastating
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| And it tend to have a mind of its own
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| It don’t exhibit patience, racin
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| Through lines and books
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| Do this shit for a livin, it ain’t simple as it looks
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| When that ink run dry better be a good cook
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| Have a job lined up or be a great crook
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| Another heart gets took
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| Uh, Illmind is down with us I say, the J-League, they down with us I say, Joe Scudda, he down with us And uh, 9th Wonder, yeah he down with us I say, Big Dough, he down with us |
| That's my manager, you know he down with us And uh, O-Dash is down with us And uh, Yazahrah is down with us And uh, D-Brock, he down with us And everybody out there, yeah you down with us Uh |
| , J-League, Little Brother, Chitlin Circuit 1.5 |