| Me and Marley Marl, we are resented, ya know?
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| Because of the beats and the rhymes we invented
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| To cold dis another’s a thing that we love
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| So here’s another one to get jealous of
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| Do it ya
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| Do it ya
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| MC’s that I battled are the MC’s I defeat
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| Now you say you took me out, now how that sound?
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| Do it ya
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| Kazookie-zang
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| Kazookie-zang
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| Kazookie-zang-bong-baga-dung-dang (2x)
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| Once I’m done puttin heads to rest
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| I sit back and puff a spliff of buddha bless
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| See, in days of old mi rhyme went gold
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| The music, it wasn’t recommended
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| Man used to sit on seat and tap out a beat
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| And went away feeling relieved
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| Hey ya
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| But soon after our rhyme is invented
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| And put together, it sound contented
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| And rhymin a-fi work
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| I tell you rhymin, yes it a-fi work
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| Bang-dang-dilli-dilli-dilli
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| MC’s, dem like to bite the things you say
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| Others come along and like the beats you play
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| You know that’s cold considered a dissin of work, ya know?
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| I don’t deal with negativity and thing and thing
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| I’m the MC, and I’m also cool
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| Jacuzzi in my crib size of your pool
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| Sent di butler for my midnight treat
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| Rug so plush ya can’t see ya feet
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| If ya come and visit if you choose
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| It’s a must at the door that you leave your shoes
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| Don’t obey and you’ll have to go
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| Some didn’t listen till my gun went bo!
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| Rock the house a little bit
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| Rub-a-dub
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| Michigan and Smiley
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| And di Yellowman
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| And MC Shan and Marley
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| Ya know
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| The house is packed every place I play
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| But let me tell ya bout this jam one day
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| ]From the very first time I walked through the door
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| I see the people rub-a-dubbin on the floor
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| Played the wall, a man came past
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| Oh my God, dem puttin fire to glass!
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| I dipped, I bobbed, I weaved, I shook
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| I hear ya puff it one time and from there you’re hooked
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| It make you sell your car, your house, your ring
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| Have you flying through the clouds and you don’t have wings!
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| He passed it to me, I said, «No,» him said, «Why?»
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| My boy jumped up and said, «I'll give it a try»
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| ]From the very first time he ignited the flame
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| My homeboy wasn’t actin da same
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| I tapped him on the shoulder and I said, «Let's go»
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| He looked at me and replied with, «No»
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| I said, «Fuck it,» and left him there
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| The torch, the pipe, the base, the chair
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| I came back five days from then
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| To my surprise I seen my friend
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| To let you know what this thing does
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| He was sitting in the very same spot he was
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| I walked over, «Want more?» |
| he said
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| Pipin hot my man dropped dead
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| His head hit the table, the pipe hit the floor
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| But I’ll mention that di man won’t base no more!
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| Bo!
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| Kazookie-zang
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| Kazookie-zang
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| Kazookie-zang-bong-baga-dung-dang
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| Hey man, let me tell ya, man
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| True story, no bloodclot
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| Man fall and when his head hit the floor, man (unintelligible)… bass pipe
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| Everyone cried for the coroner
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| Go and pick up him pipe and said
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| «Man, dem leave em on the floor just like he lay, ya know?»
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| Picked up da crumb and put it in di pipe and he fuckin bliss off da ting off,
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| man
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| Oh my God, bloodclot!
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| Man puttin fire to di glass thing, man
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| And say, «Scotty! |
| Scotty! |
| Where ya at, Scotty?»
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| To the transporter room, ya know?
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| «Beam me! |
| Beam me!
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| Beam me, blood!
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| Beam me, bloodclot!» |