| It’s the barbershop, y’all know the rules.
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| No fighting, no cussing, no Cuz and no Bloodin'
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| And sit yourself down and act like you got some sense
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| Now I step through the door in the flyest pair of Dunks
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| Quit lyin, you ain’t seen these at Foot Locker, chump
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| And I ain’t about to argue, shoot game with you punks
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| who don’t know Air Jordans from some Reebok Pumps
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| And out of twenty-three, thirteen was the hottest
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| If it’s rare and it goes on your foot, then I got it
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| I’m that undefeated off of Brayer playin modest
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| While you runnin up to eBay to empty out your pockets
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| Sock it, in the mouth if you don’t wanna get clowned on Metro-actin cats gettin frowned on, we sound on everything from ball to y’alls women
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| Ballers up in here and they braggin how they livin
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| 'Til they car get pulled, still at home with they mommy
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| Changin faces, Bull City, there’s where you find me Gettin a low-down from the nigga innanet
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| You ain’t done with my haircut, yet! |
| I swear to God…
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| Now if your fade is as tight as we is on the mic
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| Just got your whip clean and your kicks on tight
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| 'Bout to pull the flyest chick you ever pulled in your life
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| Then you doin what we doin and you doin it right
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| Aiyyo MURS, it ain’t all about a cut to me Wanna go somewhere, catch some comedy
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| and get the low-down on the drama, B This lil’dude showin out, «Who his mama be?!»
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| It’s a lotta trash-talk — «I dress better than him»
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| «Look better than them, you ain’t got no style!»
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| Keep the pagers goin wild with my new-new jointsdssssssssssssssssssssss
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| Caught a glimpse in the mirror, can’t keep me on point
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| Finally made it to Midtown, walked in the Legend’s Isle
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| Got one waitin, so I gotta go second
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| Checkin it with Quan, cran and Goose
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| C-2 got his son in the shop runnin loose
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| to set the slang straight, ya girl is ya cape
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| and if she’s blowin you out, then you gotta set her straight
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| Now everybody hate to wait, but it’s so much fun
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| A buncha dudes chillin, no beef, no guns
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| Now my barber named Lester, he from the N-O
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| Best fades in LA if you, didn’t know
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| Tighter than Jamie, in the Kanye video
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| Still freestyle and gettin Gs’when I rip a show
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| Especially when it’s in the scope, you know I’m gettin low
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| Shout out to all my playas that be chillin in the Mo'
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| …Slim, you don’t want it with him
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| Peel ya cap back to the fat meet with this pen
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| I been, in the chair, four bucks and some change
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| Can’t keep takin breaks, 'cause he wanna go eat
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| Then he start takin breaks, 'cause he wanna go speak
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| I shoulda known better coulda went over to T, but
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| It’s all gravy bread, put the money in his hand
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| Right now, got me cut like a new man
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| Caught up on my jokes, fashion to folks
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| who I ain’t seen since the last time we spoke
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| (YEAH) Aiyyo, 9th man, me and MURS we was in the Circuit City the other day,
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| man.
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| An, and-and then took me back to the barbershop
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| 'cause I ask ya boy, I said «Yo man, is Chris-Chris here today, man? |
| He workin?
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| And y’know what this dude ttold me man?
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| You, you-you know what this dude TOLD me, 9th? |
| (WHAT?!)
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| He was like, he was like, «Naw man, to-the-Canvas ain’t here today" — EUH-HAH!!!
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| (CAN-VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!!!)
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| Chris to-the-CANVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!!!
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| Bah! |
| BAH! |
| BAH! |
| Shout-out to my man Jermaine
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| First cut. |
| NIGGA! |
| Nigga! |
| Sorry Murs… |