| (I think it’s time I start feeling bitchy
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| I’ve been too nice too long
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| Yup, it’s definitely time I get nasty)
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| (Gon' be some shit)
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| (Hot damn, ho)
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| (Gon' be some shit)
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| (Hot damn, ho)
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| (Gon' be some shit)
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| (Hot) (damn) (ho)
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| (Hot damn, ho)
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| (Gon' be some shit)
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| (Hot damn)
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| Before this jam starts I’m simply stating
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| You have all waited, now you can stop waiting
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| Shall I ease into the disses, go 20, then 30
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| Or shall I got straight to 80 percent?
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| Aw, it doesn’t matter, when you’re dissed, you’re dissed
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| The party’s not over, it’s just beginning
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| Because Lyte is winning (What are you winning?)
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| Any battle in any competition
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| 'The Gangstress'? |
| Ha, you’re on a wack journey
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| (Ho) Headed for nowhere, with time to spare
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| So I’ma kick this rhyme right now and right here
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| I’d tell your name, but that would give you fame
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| And I ain’t out to give you what you don’t have
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| So I sit back and relax, cause it makes me laugh
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| I could diss, call you names and make fun of you
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| (Ho) But me the Lyte, I’m into speakin the truth
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| Like a watchtower, hour by the hour
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| Lyte is rhymin, perfect timin
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| Milk keeps the beat (I keep the beat)
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| With the tap of his feet (With the tap of my feet)
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| When he count it down (When I count it down
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| 6−7-8) Lyte’ll start the debate
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| (Hot damn, ho)
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| (Shut the fuck up)
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| (Hot damn, ho)
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| (Shut the fuck up)
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| (Hot damn, ho)
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| (Shut the fuck up)
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| (Here we) (here we)
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| (Gon' be some shit)
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| (Here we go again)
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| The first thing you ask yourself is why do I bother?
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| When you should really ask: where is the father?
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| (Where is the father?) of your child, aren’t we wild?
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| You get around like a cab, now that’s too bad
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| Everyone has been in you, isn’t that sad?
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| Bodily you’re vivacious? |
| Don’t make me laugh
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| Weight Watchers is waiting, here’s a free pass
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| You ain’t gettin loose, you fuckin jerk
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| And you ain’t gettin paid, you’re just gettin laid
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| Sexin and suckin, yeah, that is your trade
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| Put on this earth just to distract me
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| Get those to write rhymes and try to attack me
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| You will get nowhere, the Lyte is too blinding
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| Tell me, why must I keep reminding
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| You to step back, let the Lyte shine
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| Do not say shit till you write your own rhymes
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| Your mold is fake, crayola, crayon
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| Don’t dare to sleep or even prey on
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| The Lyte is too wicked, too worthy, too strong
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| And the rhymes I create are made to last long
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| Let me wise you up, rappin isn’t a sport
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| You either have to teach yourself, or you have to be taught
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| And being that you are not wise enough to do it on your own
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| The ones that write your rhymes might as well hold your microphone
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| Dropped a little vinyl, now you think you’re large
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| Step aside, Lyte Thee MC is in charge
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| Don’t sleep on me, I’m far, far, far from dumb
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| So roll correctly if you decide to come
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| MC sucker, this is what you waited for
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| I’m sick of the battle, let’s go to war
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| Why do you challenge me, Lyte Thee MC
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| Did not you know that I am crazy?
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| My screws are quite loose, in fact I don’t have any
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| But when it comes to rhymes, I’ve got many
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| Like I said and will have to say
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| Over and over, cause you disobey
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| Here on this earth I reign superior
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| One of these days I will have to get with ya
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| Tear you up mentally, from limb to limb
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| Cause I am the Lyte, and you are just paperthin
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| I sensed it, predicted it, knew it would happen
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| You plopped off fast on the scene and start rappin
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| Now it is my duty, to all MC’s
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| To ask you to go elsewhere, pronto, please
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| Now I was quite polite, nice I might add
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| But you insist on stayin, that makes me mad
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| But then again I don’t mind, I’ve got someone to pick on
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| Write rhymes to diss and even play tricks on
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| You ain’t really down, you wig-wearin clown
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| Borrowin money to buy an outfit
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| Not even good enough for a Sunday picnic
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| I ask you: do you know who you’re fuckin with?
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| With those Bubblegum jeans and those 2-for-1 Skips
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| I’m MC Lyte a.k.a. MC Payback
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| Payback is a bitch, and I’m givin you no slack
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| Unfinished Business, that shit was wack
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| So Lyte made no attempt to strike back
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| But here we go again, what is Light’s Out?
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| Let me ask what the bomboclut you a-chat about?
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| Let me say next time that you feel pissed
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| I suggest that you don’t try to diss
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| You better watch what you say to me, cause I can get evil
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| The things that I’m capable of are unbelievable
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| In 10% I popped your head in a microwave
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| I’m into blenders now, so you better behave
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| Or put you in a toaster, because you’re gettin toasted
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| Better yet an oven, because you’re gettin roasted
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| Don’t listen to your rhyme writers, cause yo, they souped you
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| You ain’t dope, you can’t cope, they musta dooked you
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| You musta had some wack crack (real wack crack)
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| Sent you on a mission, and now you’re comin back
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| But let me school ya, Lyte is runnin this show
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| So yo, ho, I think you oughta go
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| Before Lyte Thee MC gets into it (into it)
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| But remember, you forced me to do it
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| Yo, now you know
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| And knowing is half the battle
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| Slime |