| Heyyo, this hip hop shit’s like a groupie nowadays
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| It’s too easy to fuck with, plus it go both ways
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| Anybody with a grill and a dick
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| Can come and get a number one hit and that’s it
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| Common used to love her, but even DMC don’t fuck with her
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| Since she hooked up with Danny Glover
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| She’s Hollywood, nigga
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| Fake ass dudes with no clues and Pro Tools
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| And Bathing Ape shoes is who niggas pay money for
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| Well get out your checkbook, real niggas rappin' this here
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| My name’s Kardinal, came from the indie scene
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| When niggas still press vinyl for the promo team
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| When niggas still used twelves, when Preemo’s beats were still law
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| In between Hard Knock Life and Raw
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| I’m in between shit you never saw
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| And that boom bap rap that made you take your tape deck off pause
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| This means war
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| Y’all act like niggas ain’t bringin' the real shit no more
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| This means war
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| Y’all act like niggas ain’t still bringin' the real hardcore
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| One for the money, two’s for the skill
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| Three’s for all my niggas who sample Kill Bill
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| Four’s for the DJs who still carry crates
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| And five’s for wack niggas getting punched in the face
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| For spitting that bullshit, bringin' down the curve
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| In the name of hip hop, nigga you got some nerve
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| I ain’t a backpack underground lyrical miracle bus-ridin', shell-toed dude
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| But I’ll still eat your food
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| On any given Sunday
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| Cool J or not I’ma rock them bells and get paid like J Foxx
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| No actin', just give me the reel-to-reel
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| Like, I’m thorough like a Navy Seal
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| In every borough, but I ain’t busting shots for George
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| Tryna bust on the track and clear racks in stores
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| With M. Polo on the kick, it’s like Pele on the MP
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| I’m crack, even Joe gotta envy
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| I turned on the radio and laughed to myself
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| Nowadays anybody wear diamonds in they belt
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| And a target on they back for the shots
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| And hate for the cops go pop without giving a second thought
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| Fuck that, nigga, I’ma go pop too
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| Two shots in their head just to clear out the room
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| Grab that microphone and show you who’s boss
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| And rep for the hoods like a burning cross
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| But just without Bush and the rest of the gang
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| They got up in with more girls than K.D. |
| Lang
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| Ellen, and Bill Clinton combined
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| Must be a sign of the times
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| Nigga read my face, you can’t fuck with the lines
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| Every time you think I ain’t got no more heat
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| I just call Marco Polo and I destroy the beat
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| I’m a tyrannosaurus without a thesaurus
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| Niggas get ate, get a verse before my release date
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| There it is
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| One more time my nigga
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| I’m a tyrannosaurus without a thesaurus
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| Niggas get ate, get a verse before my release date
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| There it is |