| We keep it koming
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| We keep it koming, huh
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| We keep it koming Spark that L!
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| We keep it koming, uhh
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| And when it’s time to Organize
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| We stick together through the times
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| With the attitude like Miles
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| We keep it koming
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| Verse One: Prince Poetry
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| I be flipping the scripts, ripping through hoods coming equipped
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| Lifts out of my lyrics sippin forties in a whip
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| Organized, rise raise up the level surprise!
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| Niggaz watch Prince, open your eyes when I deliver
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| give a honeydip a wink, thick chocolate bitch
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| Switch up the pace, kick me the digits later you can taste
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| the bass thumps for months, entrapped in the lab
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| with mad blunts, creating formulas that you can grab
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| I escape, the clutches of wackness, I’m like a mattress
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| Lay it down for the South Side, Sounds of Blackness
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| Uh, ohhh, I keep it koming stunning you’re running
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| through states, to make pace gunning you down with the drumming
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| that rakes, in the dough
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| Oh, my God, times are hard so I gotta flow
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| Spark up the L, I excel over the stress
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| Crushing the competition that I stomp from East to West
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| Rest assured we will deliver the goods to the 'hoods
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| for the youth, this is proof we should
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| well, Organize got the bomb hard to stay calm
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| Forming like Voltron and then attacking at dawn
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| Verse Two: Pharoahe Monch
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| When I’m fed up, I hold my head instead of me teasing
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| Yo ooh ooh child, things are gonna get easier
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| In my mind and in my soul
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| I can take control of a beat whenever I roll
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| Stroll up the block, 40-dog cocked back
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| in my knapsack is a uzi-wop, BLACK WHASSUP!
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| Spreading like malaria, but much scarier
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| Migrating in the whole tri-state area
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| Without a doubt, my niggaz never go out
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| They rock, braids and fades and baldies
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| and blow up and blew out throughout
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| the entire night I’m peepin you and
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| your entire crew out -- what’s that all about!
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| I suppose I be steppin to hoes when
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| I’m masking overconfidence, cause I know my new shit
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| is gonna go platinum, I’m mathin em Light skin ones inside of a Maxima
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| On a passenger side, this is what I’m asking her
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| Hey baby you look so good
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| Why you driving through our neighborhood?
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| If raps I wrote were cookies, I bet you’d bite a chip
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| rookie fetch a product, cause it took a long time to ignite
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| a fucking style from the end, back to the beginning
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| Niggaz is winning, Prince, niggaz is winning
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| Keep the fat drumming running up your back
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| black, with stacks of facts for the tracks
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| that you can react to Verse Three:
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| We be the bread and butter making breaking crown facts around back
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| Cracking gunner sound heart starts to stutter when the bass
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| pounds butter, like this
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| Rumbling CD crispy, no hiss
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| Rush you like Russell, make you flip like Knipsie
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| Wilson negative but can’t see, but maybe one
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| Organized take the favor rated is my tip
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| To keep my peers motivated with funk, only we rip see
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| For years tears shed it but never let it mislead a nigga figure that I’d be runnin dogs you know
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| Nigga
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| Yeah, uhh
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| Check it out
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| Extreme phat, with the Pharoahe Monch cheeba cheeba
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| Mr. Prince Po will flow… |