| Down at electric avenue
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| Stabbin' you, revvin' you for the fat revenue
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| Steppin' to you or whoever wants to break through
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| I got the AM/FM blues
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| Most niggas ain’t paid dues
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| But if you snooze and you lose
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| Then choose the real flavor
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| Played off with the crews
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| I got the dice for the wager
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| So I’m checking my pager
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| Whether minor to a major, doesn’t matter
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| I’ll spray you with mad rhythms
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| If you’re not down to bust the physical
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| We’ll make all you suckas go spiritual… (Warning…)
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| (The surgeon general… Has determined…)
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| (Devastating… To your ear…)
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| If you’re not down to bust the physical
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| We’ll make all you suckas go spiritual
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| State enters mental
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| If you’re not down to bust the physical
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| We’ll make all you suckas go spiritual
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| Wildchild, hit 'em with the ill lyrical
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| Roll with the soul man
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| Slow floats negator
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| Motivator of the greater emcees with the hardcore data
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| From the inner soul, Wildchild will end your flow
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| Most don’t even know
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| I’m like the Mickey Brown, kick, evenflow
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| Even though, Madlib, dude the Bad Kid, crack ribs
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| Lootpack’s definition of abstract is
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| Take the vibe in your one hand, motivation in the other
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| Dedicate, never hesitate, to flow like no other
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| '95 bust my rhythmatic flows the ill type
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| Nowadays why is a two-faced brother still write
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| Wack ish
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| (Warning…)
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| Props to the Evangelistic Baptist
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| Church from Oxnard it’s the first
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| Time I represent, and I’m not hesitant
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| Step to give props to my 805 residence |