| Question, how many MC’s do you know like this?
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| The type who can freestyle, check it I must insist
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| But before I stop my mic check and cock back my fist
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| The LP gots to MC
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| Let’s collaborate with the sounds of fate, gather round the plate
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| Ya down to wait for the background chatter when I surrond the fake
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| Drop a soundpiece on ya ear using my mic arithmetic
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| To getting up my flows while I’m using my mic equipment
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| LP will like uplift you with beats and lyrics that shift you
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| Predict you need help so may The Force be with you
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| Since rap is like a court dismissing you like a jury
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| When it comes to West Coast underground
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| Lootpack’s enlisted yearly
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| Ya best be concerned if you heard that I said I
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| It’s confirmed Jack must return like Jedi
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| On the cuts is DJ Romes, rocking beats my nigga Madlib
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| Come like this with an abstract jab
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| Niggas mad cuz I plan to be green forever
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| (Cuz whatever the cause) we’ll get taken out never
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| You’ll end up gettin' caught up in our circle
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| Hemmed up cuz you forgot to put your limbs up
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| You can catch me with my SP or my pad and my pen
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| Mixed with Hen, Heineken, Juice and Gin
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| The California weed blend to get you open like stunts
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| This is dedicated to them niggas that front
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| Question, how many MC’s do you know like this?
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| The type who can freestyle, check it I must insist
|
| But before I stop my mic check and cock back my fist
|
| The LP gots to MC
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| In any city, country, state, or any center
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| The instrumental inventor be all up in the winter
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| Summer, spring, fall, never hit you with no gimmicks
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| Original loop beat patterns back the lyrics
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| So when we start to invent, niggas know the flava
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| Hit you off with no intent, than flip ill demented
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| (Well how you feel about most niggas?)
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| Most ya niggas comin out with that same old shit
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| My niggas on that brain sick
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| When it comes to lyrical wetting, its kinda like armaggedon
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| Suckers be gettin beheaded, shredded so nigga forget it
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| Ya fake MC’s make me wanna laugh
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| Ya niggas out for the cash but in a year y’all niggas pass
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| Now ease down off the treble and go threes up on the bass and
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| We’ll drop universal for the whole Likwit organization
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| Y’all gonna be facing (soundpieces) forms of manifestation
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| We’ll run up in ya station and give messages to the nation
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| We’re gonna start to neglect wack MC’s who lack respect
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| As the lost art resurrects, I’ll make all y’all want to eject
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| Wackness, for the simple fact Jack is
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| Sending this out to all of my 805 abstract friends
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| Question, how many MC’s do you know like this?
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| The type who can freestyle, check it I must insist
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| But before I stop my mic check and cock back my fist
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| The LP gots to MC |