| I’m a soldier, you’re a farmer with the pitchfork
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| John Wick, kill every assassin on the switchboard
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| Expert at exerting texts, words with texture
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| Absurd, I axe murder tracks like I’m Dexter
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| Cold blooded, so sudden, nobody’s breakfast
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| My guest list? |
| Nobody. |
| So bloody reckless
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| If I don’t write, things are not very promising
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| Not many strong as him, but not lots of common sense
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| Shit caught a mil just on Japanese garmentry
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| Did more pills than the back of a pharmacy
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| Spectacle, skeptical, replicas blocked out
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| Put me in the ring, that’s a technical knockout
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| Can' let these geeks have it, beast back to wreak havoc
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| Fresh dressing real savage, can’t fuck with these fabrics
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| Guns up in each cabinet, shotty by the bed
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| If you break into my house, that’s a body full of led
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| Somebody probably should have said, I am coming back for vengeance
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| To bury all my enemies and cherish all my friendships
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| Cutting all the people out my life that have no guts
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| Spazzing out on tracks, I just blackout and go nuts
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| Provocatively, talking awkwardly, you rocking with me?
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| Fucked up so many times, I let God forgive me
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| Thank God I can spit a sick 16
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| Drug money, rap money ain’t worth sick sixteen
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| $ 130,000 on my whip wearing ripped jeans
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| $ 100,000 on my other whip, making quick cream
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| Cash rules everything around me, don’t come through my boundaries
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| Everything I do, it’s astounding
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| Underground king, then I got demoted
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| Now Carlito’s in the bathroom, I’m reloaded
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| I don’t give a flying fuck what you got recorded
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| Both my thoughts distorted, but I got rewarded
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| I’m a problem in the game, homie pass me the ball
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| I just hung another two plaques on my wall
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| 'Cause I’m back from a relapse, cash 'cause I freelance
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| I snap like a tree-branch on tracks made my C-Lance |