| Despite the mileage never compromised rhymes
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| Living how the youth get mentally abused by time
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| American nightmares I don’t believe in flashing lights
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| Red, blue, and white who getting stopped tonight
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| Who down to fight for they life and unite as one color under the lights tonight
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| Check it
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| I know exactly where my mind is while I’m trying to block out this loud silence
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| from my White friends
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| Uh
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| I bring an ax to smash rappers it’s demolition
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| While I’m the, spitting image of a samurai’s who spitting writtens to turn you
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| into a splitting image
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| My word is my weapon I make a killing and it’s been that way since the beginning
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| A master assassin, uh, carry the notepad and a
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| Ink pen that extends into a bowstaff
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| My vision couldn’t be restricted with a blindfold
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| Keep rhymes legible, my eyes closed, return to Voltron
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| Clear Soul join together like a zygote
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| You probably couldn’t hang in the booth with a noose where the mic goes
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| Ayo my wordplay swordplay, on the record
|
| Watch where you stepping get cut by intelligent weapons
|
| My wordplay swordplay, on the record
|
| Watch where you stepping get cut by intelligent weapons
|
| My wordplay swordplay, on the record
|
| Watch where you stepping get cut by intelligent weapons
|
| I got incendiary thoughts with a short as fuse
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| Ready to blow up on yo ass, make one bad move
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| My move, can’t be detected by, you need a polygraph
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| Final flash, haters with a single slash
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| Hit the pad, load up machine then I hit the pad
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| Boom Shakalaka, it’s only proper I make it jam
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| Give a damn, about your wack beats and a weak plans
|
| My chi stands about as long as maybe a week span and heats man
|
| Shout out to Gold dojo
|
| Been training on my path but now I’m off-road like a 4−4
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| The flow flow, go apeshit like Mojo Jojo
|
| Now to go low, they catch you like playing some Marco Polo
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| I’m dolo, until I link up with the Voltro'
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| don’t be so slow
|
| The hoes know to hop on the dick like a Pogo
|
| Catch a breeze until I hit them trees like Sonny Bono
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| But I got away 'cause a half of a gram, I’m on proba'
|
| Running through it like Uma did through the Crazy 88s
|
| Ayo my wordplay swordplay, on the record
|
| Watch where you stepping get cut by intelligent weapons
|
| My wordplay swordplay, on the record
|
| Watch where you stepping get cut by intelligent weapons
|
| My wordplay swordplay, on the record
|
| Watch where you stepping get cut by intelligent weapons
|
| See, see
|
| The feeling that just hit you knocked the stuffing out ya throat
|
| The vibe is right in front of you, could view without a scope
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| My hope floats, flows dope and
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| All N My Head’s coming soon, do cop it
|
| Watch a bunch of rappers copy niggas
|
| Dry as the Mojave, but on a larger picture
|
| clearer than Canadians and know the difference proper
|
| Never taking nada, learn to put it all behind us
|
| See the future not a promise
|
| Our purpose here to raise the voices and the people baby I’m the grand designer
|
| Slice the katana rhymer had to smuggle in my pen like a detonator
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| Greater superior damage area
|
| Scary and you more bullpit than a terrier
|
| Shit
|
| Make you ponder, wonder why they wanna take us under
|
| The stress I need escrow, bad as Esco
|
| It’s written both sides my mind scribble death strokes
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| And hold these vibranium flows
|
| I go harder than T’Challa fists
|
| Red ink, Nas is my phlebotomist
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| Use my right hand, cover verses out the monolith
|
| , could still feel I need oxygen
|
| Feel I need to hit the philly shell to escape the damage
|
| Feel I need a philly cannon blast me off the planet
|
| Mister Officer you’re now on cloud 11 |