| One time for my people, my blunted out heads
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| We represent the real, let the underground spread
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| To the kids in the high schools, hoods that you drive through
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| Made for the kids with the higher I.Q.
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| Got sent to that Rah Rah, I Declare War shit
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| Outsidaz, Night Life, witty metaphor shit
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| Start in the basement, push til it’s corporate
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| Put in a place, to be sold and make a fortunate, for ex&le
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| The deeper it get, the deeper we go Ya talk tough, but beem in the O’s, weak in the blows
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| Plus you don’t go enough meat on ya bones
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| Mess around’ll you’ll sleep from this weaker then nome
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| I’m like M.L.K., when I’m speakin’a pawn
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| Settin’mad bullet sprays til they reachin’ya thong
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| For cats that grow naps never seakin’a comb
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| Sloman Shield couldn’t help you when we creep in ya home
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| To ya fake niggas, that said I’ll never make it Ya trick is in my bed right now, ass naked
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| I taught ya hoe, how to properly act
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| Now she got three cribs, you pay the property tax
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| You can catch me in the Bricks, lookin’plush in the six
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| Wit ya main chicken, she suckin’my dick
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| Fuckin’wit God, producin’nothin’but hits
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| Wanna battle my click, go ahead and spit
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| You not fresh, nope, you not def
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| Like Tribe Called Quest, I gets served flat as a Hot Sex
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| To take a chick to shop at lot less
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| Date a bitch from my projects, she runnin’ya pockets
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| That’s you-a, grindin’in that cat Cougar
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| Gat smoother than Zab Judah in black Puma’s
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| Cash ruler, change my name to Abdullah
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| While ya A&R trynna make ya track smoother
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| Hit the liquor store than get the raw in ya jaw
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| That stick ya, then chill like it’s still vinegar
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| From projects to Bel-Air, models chicks to welfare
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| Do we get the punky? |
| (HELL YEAH!)
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| HELL YEAH!
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| HELL YEAH!
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| HELL YEAH!
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| HELL YEAH! |