| Aaaiight… aaaiight…aaaiight…aaaiight!
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| OH NO NOT THEM HITTIN’CHROME!
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| Balheadz and gunz BLOAW!
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| Do you wanna run say: Aaah! |
| (Aaah!)
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| Wich way did he go? |
| You don’t know
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| You move too slow, boy you BLOW
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| My style flows on you right here
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| Where my Queens niggaz? |
| (RIGHT HERE!)
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| Is you out there? |
| (YEAH…YEAH!)
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| Just watch us walk this hit, and get ILL
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| We won’t gall, til we hear fifty bill
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| So grab a hoe, get a grib, it’s time to shake it up Rappers and routines, that make bricks
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| And you couldn’t make me forget about, where I came frome
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| And even if I left… SNOW, I still be a hoodlum
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| Cuz good dayz come to those WHO TAKE 'EM
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| And I’m fed up, if there was so much things outta ya I gotta screeaam! |
| (Aaah!) To let it all
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| It’s frustration and it’s filled up inside a me!
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| Come on and scream (AAH!)
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| And shout (OOH!), just let it all out (YEAH!)
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| These M.C.'s shoulda rehearse
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| They keep comin’around like auto-reverse
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| But then I shift THE WORST!
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| We THE WORST, and then they heard
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| But first da cut-- Then I bust they verse to quince (?) my fears
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| I’ve had mad money, but I spend it, now I’m broke
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| So I’m searching for somebody to put in a choke hold
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| And I can wet to wrap my bay hands around they neck
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| And SQUEEZE until I fuckin’strangle 'em to death
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| Yo, you smell that?
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| Yeah, that’s me, I’m the shit
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| I’m in affect like Woodtex
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| A newer Tec from out da click
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| Because my rhyme again, pass me my Heineken
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| WHERE’S THE WEED I NEED? |
| It is my vitamin, so light it Lincoln (HAH!)
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| Reach for the sky, you move too far, you won’t get by, you gotta jar
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| This style is a gimmick and you know that you can’t be, what we be We AFFICIAL NAST!
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| When I was born, I never thought that I could be like that
|
| ? |
| up on their BACK, block’s sellin’CRACK
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| Watch the BLACK cops, I PACK cock clocks and glock phat knots
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| Nigga in Dawn Paddy crimes, like I play nines
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| And odds to stay alive, survive and they gettin’mine
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| Faultless for ghetto minds, and FUCK DA ???
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| See you rather run the streets and fuck around with the crooks
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| THEY GOT bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger and Deffer and better
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| This my better bottom of brother, word to mother!
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| Mo’niggaz grab the mics, talkin''bout they gonna set it When all the rounds you’ll make is fake and synthesis
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| We just get it, wish your style is old and?
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| So burn up mo’money, cuz you gets no credit
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| You want it? |
| Here go Nigga know that you own me, or me gon’be on da street dealo
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| Bangin’M.C.'s, SO KEEP IT LIVE! |
| Up in here
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| I swear nothing left, we pose dead, your best record by--Most def, Most Def
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| Sticky Fingaz, I earn money for walkin’in chains
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| Where I grew up, in Brooklyn New York, moved to Queens, and my teams
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| My pants is bustin’out the scene, is what this gun in my teens
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| Without it I wouldn’t’ve lived this long
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| In my wildest dreams, that I’m a STAR!
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| All spotlights, police have me!
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| Afficial Nast keep it on, keep keep it on, and ya don’t stop
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| All City keep it on, keep keep it on, and ya don’t stop
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| Armee keep it on, keep keep it on, and ya don’t stop
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| Onyx keep it on, keep keep it on, and ya don’t stop |