| Ahhh. |
| yes. |
| one life. |
| and what a life it is
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| The new millenium. |
| everything’s beautiful
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| Everything’s bright -- EXCEPT in the underground
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| Hu-hu-huh, yo, yo, yo, EXCEPT in the underground
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| Anti-theft devices. |
| stolen cars. |
| mad drugs
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| Chancellor Avenue! |
| (Yo yo yo YO! Pace! Whattup nigga?)
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| (Yo yo yo!) HUH!
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| Sunroof top, built-in stash spot
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| Chillin on the scene with a gangsta lean, OOH
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| Uh, yea-yea-yea-yea-YEAH
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| Yea-yea-yea, yo-yo-yo, UH!
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| Some do clock like neighborhood watch
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| Jealous of the team that’s makin the cream, OOH
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| Yea-yea-yea-yea-yeah
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| And it go like this
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| I don’t be battlin average men, I rip your establishment
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| Semi check they’re after us — 260 Madison
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| Avenue, New York, New York
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| My crew walk through y’all like MOVE IT, MOVE IT
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| Don’t make me holla holla that your raps need improvement
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| Your best track get left back like stupid students!
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| And while I show you new kids how to do this
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| Let me break down how I be movin units, yo
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| I talk about stealin you and how your label beatin you
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| Exploit the weakness that I see in you
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| Crack on your Mom Duke and talk about your vehicle
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| Big time FAG, not doin what you need to do, YO
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| I’m the unbeatable, non-stop eager to
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| Step up to the plate nigga like a major leaguer do
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| See jail, get a R.O.R
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| Come back home like a hardcore star!
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| Take over the streets, move that cardboard car
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| Doin two hour shows, no encores y’all!
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| Gat blow, rap pro, style is supernatural
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| Have hoes packed 'til they can’t move 'em back — YO!
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| Who been imitatin? |
| Who wanna be like me?
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| Rap all day, fuck all night WE.
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| . |
| are the debonnaire, never scared
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| Push it 160, mad tipsy off of Everclear
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| Got guns and Knicks like Marcus Camby
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| I hide 'em in the darkest alley
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| If a snitch drop dime on my crimes I’mma have to park at Rally
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| Run up and spark his family; |
| sing the hook!
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| Sunroof top, built-in stash spot
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| Chillin on the scene with a gangsta lean, OOH
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| Yeah, yeah, huh, yo
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| Yo-yo-yo-yo-YO, uh!
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| Some do clock like neighborhood watch
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| Jealous of the team that’s makin the cream, OOH
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| Huh, yeah yeah yeah
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| I’m the man at the show that the women come see
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| Strippers say, «Fuck it — we all fuck free!»
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| Mr. Intangible, can’t touch me
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| Roll up on you hungry, only one deep
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| Slug three fools in the leg and the tummy
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| Y’all can’t take nuttin from me, DUNNY
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| Silly-ass niggas like Cole on «Martin»
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| I go to jail, either get paroled or get pardoned
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| See who the snitch get the fifth then I spark him
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| Next time you see him, he on a milk carton
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| Listen, how we Detroit like the Pistons
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| BURIED SIX FEET SOMEWHERE
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| I raise my glass in the air, drink about five beers
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| Come up with all these ideas, TO SPARK IT
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| Open up a market, rentin out apartments
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| Give it to a nigga when he act like he want it
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| Any situation, my crew down to solve it
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| Nine to sixteen ex-convicts
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| Better save comments for bullshit crews that need polish
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| This one here got the phonics, bitch!
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| Sunroof top, built-in stash spot
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| Chillin on the scene with a gangsta lean, OOH
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| Yea-yea-yea-yea-YEAH
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| Y’all can’t fuck with Da Bricks, UHH!
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| Some do clock like neighborhood watch
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| Jealous of the team that’s makin the cream, OOH
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| Yea-yea-yea-yea-YEAH
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| Pace. |
| WON! |