| For the love of Christ
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| I don’t need ice to leave you froze
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| Turn your brains to toothpaste
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| Squeeze till it blows
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| Grim Reaper with rap flows
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| Rap’s a trap, those attack
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| Foes who lack respect get head cracked (oh!)
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| Survive with the movement
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| Madness, domestic abusin'
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| Extortion, Organized Konfusion
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| Teenage abortion, tossed and forced to prostitution
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| 9/11 distorted the law’s proportion
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| We was one unit (word), now we back to bein' monkeys in mosh pits
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| Drama and mayhem, soon as the dark sits
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| Spark the heart, bacardi dart
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| Rotty-doddy aside
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| The Maserati, dog, respect the art
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| Black Max with smarts
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| The special effects that light up your heart
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| Me on the mic is like the bite of a shark
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| Ignite, and drove ya bullshit
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| Right off the chart
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| Out the hood, most misunderstood
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| I gotta stay sharp
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| Remarkable with this modern day art
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| Pos' the soldier from Rosewood
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| Vanilla dutch, touch that’s so hood
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| Blaze like blueberry haze
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| You know how we roll in these last days
|
| Smash cats into raps for (?)
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| For them, it’s Poe (?)
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| Spittin' that '89 crack flow
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| Tap hoe
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| Bounce out the back do'
|
| But not without his gat, tho'
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| Danger Mouse came with that
|
| Bent back, the big grim track
|
| Get back, Po
|
| Hmm.
|
| Is that so?
|
| The first Hip Hop chat show
|
| Whoever talk slick get they lip popped by Fatso
|
| Bum, feel the sting linger
|
| Wrote this humdinger with a
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| Dislocated bling finger
|
| Still king of the hill, it’s the DOOM-Hour
|
| When he came to spit more gibberish
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| Than Boomhauer, mayne
|
| Wigs’ll bleed with the quick speed
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| Drag 'em backstage
|
| Like the tiger nigga did Siegfried
|
| Caught a deal on a sawed off
|
| Bought off, suit and shells
|
| And a hood shit
|
| Just to ward off the groupie-males
|
| Most will boast that his flows is coastal
|
| I hope he get on the mic and don’t go postal
|
| But keep it blissful
|
| It’s wishful thinkin'
|
| Piss full of drinkin', fist full of Lincolns
|
| Pistol full of lead with, one in the head
|
| And a fan base that spread from the unborn to undead
|
| Dunn said, terror alert high
|
| Dress code when it’s stress mode, it’s shirt and tie
|
| A certain guy told her ignore the mask
|
| A flirt in a skirt to make you beg for the ass
|
| Baby got back, maybe got black
|
| In a stranger house, Danger Mouse
|
| Gave 'em hot tracks
|
| Aks’d him could he bark on the beat
|
| And spark Cali
|
| Villain not the cat you wanna meet
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| In a dark alley |