| We bout to bring em out
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| We bout to bring em out
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| A lot of niggas in this rap world, come out, and dumb out
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| Me, I bring the bassline and drum out
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| Plus write scriptures, that bust bright pictures
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| When Mad Skillz, Cool Reef Daddy plus Tip
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| Just stepped inside the lab, to keep the Extra Skillz Ab
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| You either true fat or cut the flab
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| On the microphone hot it’s Skillz before heat
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| A wack nigga rhymin, kills a raw beat
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| And I got both, bout to cook up a loaf of bread
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| On your motherfuckin head!
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| Yeah, here comes that kid Mad Skillz rippin styles with perfections
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| Makin rappers uncomfortable like they had yeast infections
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| I’m prone to rip microphones, keep rap sewn
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| Step on niggas domes, leavin crews with Down’s Syndrome
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| I’m Skillz, ending out the Extra Abstract
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| Grinding on nouns, hittin verbs from the back
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| It’s like that, that’s the only way it’ll be
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| So if it gets said nigga, it got to be by me
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| I represent V-A well, peace to the Cella Dwell
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| Washing-tons of rappers up, like my first name was Denzel
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| Who wanna come test and attempt to come near
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| I shaked your puny record sales and end your career
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| Lookie here, no need to get fly and shit
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| In ninety-five, I’m on sucka MC wanna die shit
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| To your chest and watch the mic get ripped
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| Mad Skillz, Extra P, and my brother Q-Tip
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| Huhuhuhuhuhuh *shuddering sound* like the Doc Bruce Banner
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| Hit you with a ray which is similar to Gamma
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| Do you believe in miracles? |
| You know I fuckin' do
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| Like I believe in myself, but I don’t believe in you
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| What you need to do is get faith
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| Take your spiritual, out your body, put it in a higher place
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| Cause I’mma bring out, the Holy Ghost in niggas
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| In my lyrical church, and I be hostin niggas, uh
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| Submergin bodies in water, you know you oughta
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| Lose all the glitter and flash, and get raw ass
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| I’ve been ordained by the feeling, to keep the hip-hop
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| Raw hoppin and the wack rappers reeling
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| Who got the shit that make your wigs go back?
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| Yeah, WE GOT THE SKILLZ that be Extra Abstract
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| Who’s packin shit to make your wigs go back?
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| Yeah, WE GOT THE SKILLZ that be Extra Abstract
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| Whose got the shit that make your wig go back?
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| Yeah, WE GOT THE SKILLZ that be Extra Abstract
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| Who got the shit that make your wig go back?
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| Yeah, WE GOT THE SKILLZ.
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| Yo, check the status, I write madness like Sutter Kane
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| Body-snatchin MC’s and pullin souls out the frame
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| You know my name, V-A's invincible Mad Skillz
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| Intoxicatin rappers like eight million Advils
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| You comin black, bring your lyrics, fuck a gat
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| Don’t play, every real nigga in V-A got my back
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| I come strapped with lyrics and hooks intact
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| You ain’t gettin shit but dirty looks and your demo tape back
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| Don’t waste your time tryin to sound like me
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| Nigga treat me like a sleeping lifeguard and just drown for me
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| I take you back like the Ebony Island
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| In the three twenty-five, with your fuckin wife freestylin
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| Uh, like that
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| Mad Skillz, Extra Abstract
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| Keepin it real on the set
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| Yeah, catchin wreck
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| Yeah yeah we bout to blast off
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| Mad Skillz bout to blast off
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| Tribe Called Quest bout to blast off
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| Large Professor bout to blast off
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| All around just blastin off
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| East coast, we bout to blast it off
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| Down South gotta blast it off
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| Uptown you gotta blast it off uh
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| V-A you gotta blast it off |