| Knights will come, be advised
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| They’ll come for them
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| Be advised they’ll come
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| Someone’s sure that they’ll be here
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| Yo Thes, what (what up?)
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| Can you rock the mic?
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| A ha ha, my mellow my man, it’s like ridin’a bike
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| Uh, Double K What’s Up?
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| Can you rock it?
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| Like ridin’a bike, but only with training wheels
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| So what, shoot the gift and let them know the deal
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| I shoot the gift like NRA members on Christmas
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| Morning warning rock MCs like isthmus like a principal
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| I’m the principal, our crew’s invincible
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| Under The Stairs
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| Impairs auditroy of your whole municipal (municipal?)
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| Code area, attack like malaria
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| Concrete jungle bundle of joy
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| With bobby-boys
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| It’s scary to think our tape destroys your crew’s hopes (what?)
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| I can’t cope with that, say no Put it on a DAT, Double K
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| 'Cause everything I say will one day give away
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| Or another recovered in it’s original place
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| Signify this straight caligrified verse
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| Petrified rock, put your goddamn block in a herse
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| Only thing worse, chaos bursts the eardrums, the P Making the beats and rhymes funkally-dunkally
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| Fat like chunky here, but not out for radio play
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| Here’s a crew washing the wax my mind space
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| Tight A, not Navy deals, no way
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| Pets for three sixty five days
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| I add a fourth 'cause I leap year
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| I leave tracks like Amtrack
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| Battles the P and Superman
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| After that your crew will try and forget like Izoin (?)
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| It’s the Amistad, man Beckets (?) know it better
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| I rip it all up like a letter for the principal
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| Chaos bursts…(Double K cuts in)
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| (Unintelligible) my crew bad as milk
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| That’s one, lace the track
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| Like a blow with the weak smell
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| Nigga, your stunned
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| Other from the brothers with another monkey (?) shit
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| Put the viddy (?) on the stick and make sure it don’t skip
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| Hip-Hoppin is reallest, punk
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| You know you wanna admit it All these crews runnin around with fat tracks
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| They don’t get it, the gettin distressed (word?)
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| The gettin me mad
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| So what you sayin, Double K?
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| Just put that shit on my tab
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| Don’t feel like dealin’with it now
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| I’ll deal with it later
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| See, the mic’s in my possesion
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| Yo, so while she did it To the minmute
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| Stupid frontin’since we first stepped in Brought it back a couple of times
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| Now you give it a grin
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| First you tell your homey,
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| Yeah man, that shit’s fresh!
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| Didn’t know this kinda shit could be lurkin’the west
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| We puttin’hair on your chest
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| We flow with no hesitation
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| Late radio stations ain’t allowed on these premesis
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| Millions hearin’this
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| Late at night like domestic violece
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| Smackin’you the fuck up Until we get some silence (word)
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| Keep you like Judge Judy on the mic
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| Puttin’up a fight
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| Rollin’hard 'till the break of daylight
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| So next time you corny niggas wanna come hardcore
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| Go listen to 'Lil Kim (word…)
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| What’s the time? |
| Time to rock our shit
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| (Scratched until end in various ways) |