| Uncle
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| Rippin the microphone
|
| And blowin the stage apart
|
| These MC’s ain’t got no heart
|
| They need to quit before they start
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| Shakin and breakin 'em down
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| Best at least
|
| Fuckin 'em up up at least
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| Smackin 'em in a pilek
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| Now have a stomp and a smile G
|
| Raisin
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| Replacin
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| Like Jason
|
| When I be chasin
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| These rappers
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| Machetti style
|
| Choppin down
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| Their petty style’s bassin
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| All in my face
|
| You got the mic
|
| But I gotta getcha off it
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| You got my rhyme
|
| Now cough it
|
| Brother sweat the tip and forfeit
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| You’re nada
|
| Know nota
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| I’m hotter
|
| You’re a slow trotter
|
| Karate
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| Switch the e into an a
|
| And it’s karata
|
| When I come on
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| I’m rippin it up
|
| Just like a madman
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| I fly your head
|
| Chop off your legs
|
| And make your head stand
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| Tax and wreckin these chumps
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| All of them I rub out
|
| You know the time
|
| What’s on your mind
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| You know I never go out
|
| I be breakin bouts
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| Ya boys
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| Your block is full of bums see
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| You never was too clever
|
| Stick the fork in you
|
| You’re done G
|
| The instrument’ll rip
|
| With the ultimate
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| Of all the rappers
|
| Toe to toe
|
| Whenever I go
|
| I guarantee
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| The flow will smack ya
|
| Pumpin ya full a lead
|
| Just like a 9
|
| Kickin it off in half the time
|
| Takin a break
|
| And makin mine
|
| You’re way behind
|
| Ya needed a title
|
| And all the uncle
|
| Made your title for ya
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| Hopin
|
| And prayin
|
| And wishin
|
| That I can’t rap
|
| But I rip all a yall
|
| In half
|
| Look at me laugh
|
| Ya hee-haw style
|
| Ya kick it
|
| Mmmmm I see goodies
|
| Gimme the mic and hoodie
|
| Now I’ll dick it
|
| Any
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| The every
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| The his
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| The hers
|
| Of those
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| Of theirs
|
| Of them
|
| I see your title
|
| Around your neck
|
| Just swingin loose
|
| I take your gem
|
| I’m takin it off you neck
|
| With every line that I select
|
| And rappin it up and cuttin
|
| While I’m starin
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| With disrespect
|
| Bustin off
|
| Yeah
|
| Squeezin like a vice grip
|
| Blowin ya off the stage
|
| Into the crowd
|
| So have a nice trip
|
| I’m takin control
|
| I hold
|
| The microphone is good as gold
|
| Fly so many heads
|
| I built my twenty-fifth
|
| Totem pole
|
| Turnin it out
|
| And gettin wrecked
|
| Is just a understatement
|
| How special to rap a flat
|
| Puttin his head
|
| Inside the pavement
|
| Burnin 'em up
|
| Just like a flame thrower
|
| Rippin 'em
|
| With the cool flower
|
| Takin 'em out in pairs
|
| Like the man, Noah
|
| Holdin 'em up
|
| Just like a trophy
|
| For the world to see
|
| You really ain’t superb
|
| You see
|
| You’re goin out
|
| Like a girl to me
|
| Takin your little
|
| Boo-hoo baby
|
| Tear drop
|
| Cryin style
|
| Breakin it down
|
| Until there’s dust
|
| And I’ma vacuum up the pile
|
| Showin
|
| And provin
|
| And groovin
|
| And makin a movie
|
| On the mic
|
| Slappin a Marlboro
|
| In his mouth
|
| Just like
|
| A dirty little tyke
|
| Master of the murderous
|
| Maniac
|
| Mad style
|
| Amazin man
|
| Mackin the mic
|
| Since I was just
|
| A mere child
|
| Props and props
|
| More props than Terminator 2
|
| With pen and pad
|
| I play to you
|
| And on the cross-fader too
|
| Endlessly with energy
|
| Undefeatable lyrically
|
| Expandin my empire
|
| You don’t wanna test me
|
| Wizard of funkadelic
|
| Every album’s like a relic
|
| Bite the line
|
| Chewin on mine
|
| But ya never live to tell it
|
| Bustin it off quick
|
| Flippin the script
|
| That’s in the bushes
|
| Then walkin around the jam
|
| I’m handin out pounds
|
| And mushes
|
| You’re makin a face
|
| You wanna test my slick manuever?
|
| Your best to rock a break beat
|
| Or somethin you can groove to
|
| Even if every rapper
|
| In the world was makin jams
|
| As soon as I set this off
|
| Their mic’s are slidin
|
| Out their hands
|
| Rockin the junky’s world
|
| With the release
|
| Of every single
|
| Back in the days
|
| I told ya
|
| I need a beat
|
| To make ya jingle
|
| Overlord
|
| Droppin the sword
|
| And choppin off the mic cord
|
| Rappers are dead
|
| All over the street
|
| In every state I toured
|
| I’m dealin the truth
|
| With living god
|
| That’s right before ya eyes
|
| And I’ll be rollin
|
| In hoods and sneakers
|
| You can keep the suit and ties
|
| No sell out
|
| Bet ya uncle never dies
|
| Gimme that microphone
|
| I’ll rip it up
|
| Until sunrise |