| Who fuckin wit us?
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| Nobody
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| One more time, nobody
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| Nobody
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| Yeaaah, hah
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| And we don’t appreciate (what the fuck?)
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| People throwin' they little two cents in (Outsidaz)
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| Spreadin' rumors (rah digga, young zee)
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| All grace, Pace the MC with great powers
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| Niggas play my tape and blank out for eight hours
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| At 9 PM you get caught up in my rhyme flow
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| Then before you know it, it’s morning/Mourning like Alonzo (good morning)
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| To the beat y’all, I mack like Peetie Wheatstraw
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| Girls say my speech, y’all inflated like a beach ball
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| Ya see the misfits and real sister’s Digga (yeah Pace!)
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| Niggas know we Soul 4 Real like the singers
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| To the fiends, my tape’s like a drug now
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| Rappers smokin' it, choke and spit blood out
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| MCs watch me, clock me, keep charts
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| I’m a seat and they refuse to get up like Rosa Parks (sit down)
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| All MC’s, here to Vancouver
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| Pace carry cans of pubic lice remover (yeah)
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| For crab MC-type intruders, I carry cans of pubic lice remover
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| High as fuck, drunk off the chardonay
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| Pacewon, represent the Garden State
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| Machete sharpener, Kurrupt like Daz’s partner
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| Dark, too smart to fake moves like Ron Harper
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| I wil' on jokers more than Oprah got papes
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| And live to stop fakes like anti-lock brakes
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| When the cops chase I fiend like a crack buyer
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| To locate the joints pointed at this rap guy, ah
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| Weave a spell to make they’re guns backfire
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| And hit their Michelins, giving them a flat tire
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| Foul to Cali, renowned, too (??)
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| Stroke up and down through pussy that will drown you
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| This is for MCs soundin' like me
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| Pace Won, I tell 'em not to dick ride me
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| Yeah, for crab MCs type intruders
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| I carry cans of pubic lice remover
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| Who the fuck in here can rock like me?
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| (Zee, Digga, Pace): Nobody!
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| And what the fuck click get more props than we?
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| Nobody!
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| Who want to get it on with the O-U-Tz?
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| Nobody! |
| Nobody!
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| Who the fuck in here can rock like Zee?
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| Nobody!
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| What the fuck click get more props than we?
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| Nobody!
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| Who want to get it on with the O-U-Tz?
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| Nobody, nobody!
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| From the door I despise you
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| Say one word I’ma fuck you up worse than St. Ide’s do
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| So don’t blast off, mouth get gassed off
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| And say something I’m gon' have to whip that ass for (we gon jump you!)
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| 'nuff said, talk and get your fly ass caught up in my web
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| Sit and break bread, shake hands and make friends, cop a grey Benz
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| Got you like heavy metal, rock until the tape ends
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| And I can’t forget the heads that get me high for free
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| That liked my shit back when we was rockin' Lees
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| And them fake niggas always think of robbin' Zee
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| They just mad cuz they don’t get more fucking props than we
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| Yo- men like me play with swords like Zoro
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| Fags like you could test positive tomorrow (for AIDS)
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| You gay as Rock Hudson, puffin'
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| Playin' like you somethin', frontin', suckin'
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| More dick than hoes do, parallel parkin'
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| Jump out your car then walk like Dolly Parton (lil' chicken)
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| This for the crews soundin' like us
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| Outsidaz, try not to dick ride us
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| Break it down
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| Outhouse
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| Who can rock like Zee?
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| Nobody, nobody
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| Outhouse
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| Yeah Yeah, what up?
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| Who the fuck in here can rock like Zee?
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| Nobody!
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| What the fuck click get more props than we?
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| Nobody!
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| Who want to get it on with the O-U-Tz?
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| Nobody, nobody, what?
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| Who the fuck in here can rock like P-A-C-E?
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| There’s nobody, nobody nobody…
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| And who get more props than Zee?
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| Nobody!
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| Who wanna fight me?
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| Nobody, nobody!
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| Uh, Rah Digga, nobody…
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| In the Outhouse world, there’s still nobody that can fuck… uh |