| Verse One: Masta Ase
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| I’m surrounded, by psychopathic, little fellas
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| Ghetto dwellas
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| With ammunition in their cellas
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| And no remorse in their hearts
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| When the shit starts it don’t end
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| Until somebody’s gone with the wind
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| And I’m tryin' to keep a level head so instead
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| Of goin' out to die, I write rhymes on my bed
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| And little kids at the playground
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| Better stay down
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| Keep duckin'
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| Cause somebody else is buckin'
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| Don’t seem to be no relief from the beef
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| Only nigga round my way without the gold teeth
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| And the gold chain, with the whole name on my neck
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| Jewelries your worse enemy without a tech
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| I’m tryin' to maintain, but it ain’t workin'
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| Niggas keep lurkin'
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| Through the darkness I see the Grim Reaper smirkin'
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| Could it be that he’s smilin' at me Not tryin' to see fatal injury, injury
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| What must I do to avoid the pain
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| It seems insane, but I gotta maintain
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| I can feel the pressure on my brain
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| Feel the strain
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| But I gotta maintain
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| Workin' hard may help ya maintain
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| Be able to maintain
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| Be able to maintain
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| Workin' hard may help ya maintain
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| Be able to, be able to Be able to maintain
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| Workin' hard may help ya maintain
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| Be able to maintain
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| Be able to maintain
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| Workin' hard may help ya maintain
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| Be able to, be able to Be able to maintain
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| Verse Two: Lord Digga
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| Back in the days I use to do a little dirt
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| Now that’s comin' back around, and man it hurts
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| To see everbody gettin' on But I got to wait cause of the things I done wrong
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| In my life, I regret it But the man upstairs won’t let me forget it Everytime I think of doin' somethin' right
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| Here c |