| Uhh. |
| nine-five shizzot, in the hizzouse
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| Uh what nigga? |
| Tch, uhh, uhh, uhh.
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| Watch my style rise like styes on your eyes
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| And battlin is hard, like retards becomin Jedi’s
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| Watch the dread fry, submerge it from tripes
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| Born from a virgin, with a eye in her back
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| So where you at -- when I choose to chew through rhythms
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| Makin bitches WOOF, like they had seven niggas with em
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| MC’s is sleazy, plus they styles is easy
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| Fool take that shit to help son and give it to fuckin Wheezy
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| Or Helen, I’m crackin open MC’s melons
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| Tonight aight yo, I’mma leave some microphones swellin
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| (Man I be flowin) Whatcha flow got to do with me?
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| Yo I’m wiser so be Pryor and act like you can’t see
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| I’m the abyss so wack niggas take a dive
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| I’m over killer beats the average kids won’t survive
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| You wanna battle? |
| Come on and bring it on son
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| I got your whole family tree on the tip of my tongue
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| Chorus: Mad Skillz (repeat 4X)
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| Floatin lyrics, from the tip of my tongue
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| I swing (swing) I sway (sway) I swung (swung)
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| Check it
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| I flow with tight raps, niggas get a tight face
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| Attitude’s, like I parked in they handicapped space
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| But I wets it, wrecks it when I mic checks it
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| Givin girls my number backwards, tellin em I’m dyslexic
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| Don’t front -- you know what type of shit I’m on
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| Rippin mics of all types, Verbal Master Sha-Kwan
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| You were warned about the Northside click
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| Bitch, flex, and get your neck stretched like Dionne Warwick
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| Let me lick a shot for all my niggas in the streets
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| Gettin ill keepin it real doin what they gotta do to eat
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| Compete and get hit with dizzy techniques
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| The only crossin over I’m doin is a motherfuckin street
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| So listen, I get in where I fit in and word to God
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| I like beats hard like holdin your shit in, sit in
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| On the session watch your body get numb
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| A real MC keeps his skills on the tip of his tongue, what?
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| Verse, tre, who’s tryin to leave in a hearse today?
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| See Skillz has skills since your great grandma’a first birthday
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| In the worst way, my styles be diesel
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| My crew ain’t goin no-fuckin-where nigga we the Forever People
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| Gettin rid of, bullshit, when I bang ya
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| So MC’s don’t talk to me, just consider me a stranger
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| Take a toke I hope you don’t choke
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| Cause if you ever see my shit it’ll be through a kaleidoscope
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| Leavin marks to embark then gettin beat sparked
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| Floatin lyrics from the tip like an ark
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| I got rhymes to stand the test of time
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| I’m bound to climb, when I go one time for your mind
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| I’m fulfillin my purpose in life, pah (what is it?)
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| See I was put here so wack niggas, would know how wack they are
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| You know who you are your shit’s saggin, word is bond
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| My shit’s tighter than five virgins in a Volkswagen
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| Do you have any idea how tight, that, five virgins, well, fuck it. |