| Underground
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| Chorus:
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| Keep it underground
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| Keep keep it underground
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| Verse One
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| I have an underground contract
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| To freak it, freak it, and it like they used ta
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| So here it is, the real for the rugged
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| And let? |
| say, «I wonder how he does it?»
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| I wreck an instrumental
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| And ring your damn ear drums as if I was a cymbal
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| Watch the Do It All do his thing
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| I might pack the verse but the verse won’t sing
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| See, now I’m off my rock
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| But I don’t need a camera unless they take me pop
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| Watch the Jersey boy, um, kick it
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| And unplug this jam if you’re feelin' kind of timid
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| And I know you hear the rap with 'em
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| Get down, no matter how it sounds
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| You gotta keep it underground
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| Verse Two
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| Check it check it uugh
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| Watch me make it funky for your town
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| Check check check it out
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| Watch me check check my style
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| People think I sleep with a skunk
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| Cause I open up my throat
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| Then I give you all the funk
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| All you rappers on my tip
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| You know you need to get off
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| You try to disrespect me
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| I try to knock your head off
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| So get ready for the real hard rhymer
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| I’m eatin' other rappers like Jeffery Dahmer
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| You get two smacks for thinkin' I’m a new jack
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| Like Kid Capri said, «The joke is on you jack!»
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| Cause if another steps to the bad brother
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| I strike you like your father, word to the mother
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| You suckers might as well get lost
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| You’ll catch a three piece, with biscuits and extra sauce
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| I caught you with your pants down
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| Now pull your drawers up
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| And keep it underground
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| Verse Three
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| Mr. Funkee have to get hard on this record
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| To show you I can even switch styles and still wreck it
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| The Lords Of The Underground
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| The ones who hold the crown
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| Whoever told you we was wack
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| Really didn’t know what they was talkin' bout
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| You’re jealous of my crew
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| The news is that you’re sweatin' me
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| Get off my tip and find something else to do
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| Now come on now, how you figure?
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| If Marley didn’t think that we was dope
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| Then I guess we wouldn’t be here nigga
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| And you can even check my album, All G Funk
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| Leave a bunch of girls singin', talkin' bout ohh la la ohh la la
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| But some of these rappers are DEAD WRONG
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| And you hear somebody sing on every other song
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| So let it come from your heart
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| And let it flow through your veins
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| Will definitely scream your name
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| Peace to the Ice Cube and peace to the Kool G
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| You only get your props if you come from beneath
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| Now the Hit Squad GETS PROPS
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| And um, Cypress Hill GETS PROPS
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| And um, PM Dawn DOES NOT
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| Now um, Naughty By Nature GETS PROPS
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| And The Geto Boys GETS PROPS
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| But Me Phi Me DOES NOT
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| Now back to the sound
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| The wrecks your whole town
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| And like the jam says |