| When I was small, I used to hop the train
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| Vision of gifted teen flowing through my brain
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| Electricity, high octane
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| Gotta be insane in order to be sane
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| Acceleration, hydroplane
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| Greg Nice, the flyest co-colo to go solo
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| Bought a string of polo ponies so I could play polo
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| Benetton, yeah, you like my style
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| Let your hair down and let’s get buckwild
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| More fluffer than a Fluffernutter, creamer than butter
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| No need to stutter—a whatta whatta whatta
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| Three pins left, I hope I don’t gutter
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| I’m hitting more skins than Oh Calcutta
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| («Pump it up») *scratched*
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| Pre-destination, concentration
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| Leads to a physical manifestation
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| A house cannot be built on a weak foundation
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| Strong and I move with motivation
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| Long is my continual lyric flow
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| And my brain contains memory info
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| Protons, neutrons, cells and membranes
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| Molecules are the tools that I in-frame
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| So you can get a vision, a visual picture
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| One, two, three, a consecutive mixture
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| Solids, liquids, gas creates matter
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| You bite my rhymes? |
| Well, I’m flattered
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| Impeccable, my rhymes are respectable
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| Inspectable but never neglectable
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| Biteable, ‘cause even the best did
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| But you can’t check me ‘cause this ain’t chess, kid
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| Splendid but don’t get offended
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| My rhymes are vibrant, brilliant, blended
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| («Pump it up») *scratched* |