| Here’s ya ticket, ain’t nothing more sick than terror dome
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| I walk the path of righteous even when foul like joe peppitone
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| The clock awoke me, it was like a quarter past six
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| Got out of bed depressed home wid the kids talkin’bout real shit
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| Non-Phixion, if you ain’t down wid us then you a victim
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| We stay tight like killers up north a new religion
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| The ghetto’s hell filled wid bad luck and born thieves
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| Impossible greed throughout the projects mothers that blow weed
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| Dance like Sam Jackson for rocks, aim at the cops
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| Camouflage able to sensitise devils wid red dots
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| I take Ashem’s orders keep my team closer to Mexican borders
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| With no pausin’full outstanders ghetto supporters
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| Hook:
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| I got so much trouble on my mind, refuse to lose
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| I got so much trouble on my mind, refuse to lose
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| My baretta will serenade displays the worldly terror devils made
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| They spread the plague of AIDS through medicaid
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| And then they pray to idols made of gold
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| Drapes ya blood and mark the scroll cold
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| Broken skulls ontop of frozen totem poles
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| Although the world’s deviled and redded I stay level headed
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| While these other cats are way too stupid so I doubt they’ll ever get it You can’t change somebody ignorant that want to be like that
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| It’s like detoxin’someone hooked on coke who won’t stop smokin’crack
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| Jane what?, unimportant paranoia stricken caught squeakin'
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| Stickin’these normally peaceful people they clock tickin'
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| Situations we escape, police station interrogation
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| I stay a caucasoid mutation and destroy the nation
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| I got the sharper sound, I fuck you up like you had chicken pox
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| and got ya ass thrown in a piranha tank
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| Twistin’the blitz of hot Non-Phixion cataclysm
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| Shatter ya vision like a gat blastin’at ya children
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| Hook (2x)
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| I got the balls against order so many people snortin’smack
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| It’s like I died and came back to take the presence of a rat
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| Cause the streets that I walk is filled with garbage and traps
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| Sure lack of funds ain’t holdin’none
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| Throughout the mash for better cash
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| When I was ten I used to buy liquor wid no I. D Thinkin’back subliminally the store clerk was tryna kill me I was born in Puerto Rico raised in Brooklyn graz-ing
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| Forced to be a man before even men became men
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| Welfare and food st&s poor shit it made me sick
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| Watchin’dealers all I stood makin’loot holdin’they dick
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| I hated Eddie Murphy used to wish that he would quit it All that you ain’t got no ice cream shit son, I lived it The bitter be the winter cold fours and street wars
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| Saw the cops raid my the block and put the gods in on force
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| Fifteen now I’m addicted to weed and nicotine
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| Hip hop, lots of pussy and ladies wid strife scenes
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| Robbin’gear from Chess King doin’my thing but got caught
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| Learn to crush ya lies within the whole structure of the thought
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| I got barred, a j.d. |
| card was bizarre
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| Started buildin’with the force he put me on that I was God
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| Travel-ing from the place on the day I realised
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| That the window to the soul be directly in the eye
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| Art of war path, I study astrology and math
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| The equator symbolic to how they split us up in half
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| From bombs in outer space to violatin’our rights
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| To cops who shove sticks in asses in Crown Heights
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| To kids bein’raped to A&R's wid no taste
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| To classism to race to buck fifties on the face man
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| Hook (2x) |