| Never judge a book by the cover
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| Discover the soul brother with the Mecca don
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| Working brunette to blonde
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| How many Edison con when I respond in full black
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| With us having the vernon villains back-to-back
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| Amazing grace when I face the great paper chase
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| For real it’s long overdue
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| So I don’t wanna talk to you
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| I stroke the hell out of mademoiselle who insisted
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| Every night, she get her back twisted in the unlisted
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| I’m living through my son so daddy see it this way
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| I want him in the NFL, his brother in the NBA
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| No doubt I’m with a piece, down in mecca, all crazy
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| To the late Eve, none of this is make-believe
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| I breathe some of the most powerful lyrics of our century
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| Battle physically, conquer mentally
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| Essentially, you’re dealing with a Mecca affair
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| So anywhere you wanna go y’know, I’ll take you there
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| C.L., whatcha gonna do?
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| You know you can make me move
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| Over, over again
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| Come on and take me there
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| Control now so in the future see me calling the shots
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| From larger plots to cash to mini-bikes and open mics
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| I’m blowing up spots for knots in the millennium years
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| And now I drop it on my peers, brings tears and fears
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| And now the question manifest in my only
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| My soldiers wear Versace or the army fatigue
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| That brings a world of intrigue and glamour to my arsenal
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| Of gods, pimps to players and layers of decepticons
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| My whole mind-state gravitate to weapon
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| Making people in the business get a misconception
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| It ain’t hard to the core, it ain’t sex on the beach
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| It’s just another plateau the brothers have to reach
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| Emphatic with non-cypher, then we were broke and misguided
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| Try to gas me like Hitler once we get divided
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| No question, you’re dealing with a Mecca affair
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| So anywhere you wanna go, I’ll take you there
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| C.L., whatcha gonna do?
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| You know you can make me move
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| Over, over again
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| Come on and take me there
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| Set it so I can make em all respect my fame
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| When brothers try to count all my chips in the game
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| Now let me civilize your foolish acts of gunplay
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| The plan of a stick man, the price in how to get away
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| Chose for negroes, the most hypnotical flows
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| On the planet, another East Coast track rose, goddammit
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| My theme, to mainstream’s the knocker
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| Only time I get writer’s block is when my lucci’s on lock
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| Pretty much I’m coming through in the clutch see
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| My thought is a bombshell, built to only propel
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| Or is it just my style of hustle making a mark
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| To rumble the playgrounds with more danger than Jurassic Park
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| It was dark, when I brought it to the light, for spite
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| My staff’s got me taking nothing but champagne baths
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| Now the aftermath’s dealing with a Mecca affair
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| So anywhere you wanna go, I’ll take you there
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| C.L., whatcha gonna do?
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| You know you can make me move
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| Over, over again
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| Come on and take me there |