| This is the sound of a head hitting the floor
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| This sound is different because this head is no longer connected
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| To a body
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| Anybody wanna battle me, I’ll murk that man
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| Beat his fuckin' ass like Dirtbag Dan
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| Put my thoughts together and assert that plan
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| Anybody in my way take a dirt-nap fam
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| Don’t ask me how I’m doin', I’m a miserable fuck
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| I’m tired and overworked and the residuals suck
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| MadChild, I’m a dirty little grungy dwarf
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| Pullin' fake suicides with a bungy chord
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| Yeah, I finally put my shit together like a carpenter
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| Now I’ll talk your ear off like a fucking telemarketer
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| Give me a gun, I’ll show you how to stop a Nazi
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| I hope you get the fucking picture like a paparazzi
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| I hit the ground running, 'cause I’m a fast swinger
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| Heavy hitter with these raps, but a bad singer
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| Yeah I’m tattooed up like I’m a Yakuza
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| But I’m a dope sick white boy from Vancouver
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| Uh
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| Count Blacula
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| Roots out of Africa
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| Shorty sinking her head, but her head is spectacular
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| Running with the smugglers, hustlers, drug traffickers
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| What happened to rapping with passion
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| Packing a Gat in the back
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| The undertaker on the paper like a watermark
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| I bury rappers underground and watch their chronics fall
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| Toronto villain, your blood spilling, it’s thrilling
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| I love killing, the villain of blood. |
| Don’t know the feeling of love |