| «Evacuate the place! |
| I spit mase./
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| Switch styles like switchblades put it to your bitch face./
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| Slice newcomers like cucumbers uhuh,/
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| styles humongous now who want us?/
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| Only a few 'mong us, but we roll like two hundreds,/
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| true brothers. |
| What you wanna do fuckers?/
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| You only mad cus I got your boo’s numbers./
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| Well I’m mad cus she gave my crew fungus./
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| So, your stinkin' ass I sweep under the rug./
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| Fiendin' for beef I’m deep under the drug./
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| Keep competition tailormade with razorblades./
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| Icecold, lampin' Flavor flav’s: delicious./
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| Fulfillin' all your wishes if you wish for me to spit till you swim with the
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| fishes./
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| I drown your whole continent./
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| Saliva drippin' my mouth is incontinent./
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| You think I’m playing then consider your odds:/
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| to go against me is considered a loss./
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| The way I write I’m getting rid of the laws,/
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| topics, flows, rhymes, deliveries — all!
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| Chorus
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| Who want it? |
| Come get it, we got it, let’s set it,/ off right now,
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| I know my whole crew’s ready./ If it’s on it’s on, if it goes down then let it.
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| / You little bitch ass, that’s right I said it.
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| Supreme is, at your service miss, oops, mistress./
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| Kiss his wack ass goodbye, let’s do our business./
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| Ze troop*? |
| The shiznit, each time you dumb asses,/
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| we shine, make blind people wear sunglasses./
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| Define a hot crew, that’s us right there./
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| Middle fingers in the air, waving at you queers./
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| Now cheers, pour a little out for your careers,/
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| slit from ear to ear, by this here cut, you hear?/
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| Supreme’s over your head, tomorrow morning,/
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| hung over in your bed, your fling was over she said./
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| So, dead that diss song, don’t ever say my name,/
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| you can’t trashtalk me kid, when you ain’t game./
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| Now I’m blamed, cus her arms around me like a necklace,/
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| and you’re left one neck less, when it’s you that’s reckless./
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| You need stretchers, first aid kits in your riders./
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| Even if you had hits, you couldn’t get with the livest.
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| Chorus
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| Take two steps back you’re too close to this fire arm./
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| Ring the alarm! |
| Another soundbwoy is gone./
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| Try to be number one, yeah you wishin'/
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| Looptroop is a nightmare to mc’s & politicians./
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| They run off as soon as we start to bun up,/
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| you little fuck up reachin' for the mic i cut your hand off./
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| You and your boys wanna sound like us./
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| Used to be dissin', now you want the pounds from us?/
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| Fuck that! |
| We overthrow corrupt sound systems,/
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| underground misfits kill that weak shit from a distance./
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| Break your resistance easy like toothpicks./
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| Looptroop is so sick make your whole crew ditch./
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| The shit we spit is banned from radio stations/
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| cus we tellin' kids to put their mark on end stations./
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| Intimidation tactics, gain victory instantly./
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| It’s on, David versus the industry
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| Chorus " |