| We was raised in these streets on pork and poison meat
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| Now i recognize the beast and bare the mark of the gold teeth
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| Puff on the rolled leaf and bust on the police
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| While yall playas are fakin bacon we cook the whole beef.
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| I put it down plain, i stimulate the left and right brain
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| Cell by cell and frame by frame.
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| Names, dates, are all inmaterial. |
| i big dick sick ryhme killer like cereal. |
| i Burn like venerial, and spit that imperial wizardry that climbs right through
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| The curcitry.
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| Choake your team for their cream but that’s as far as we go
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| Drop shit like seaguls and smash your little ego.
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| I get visions like stevie and coleco,
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| Give me 2000 live people
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| One late show no seaquel.
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| Aint no equal in the flesh
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| I been through more evil than men do.
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| Nasty off the head and with the pen too!
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| Now im pissed
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| Easy to rhyme on tracks like this
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| The more things change
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| The more they remain the same
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| These games them vidiots
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| Playin on the brink of insane
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| Must be a hockey rink
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| Lost in their drink
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| In pursuit of plain jane
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| I think man they think a revolution be pretty in pink
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| Now in these new tracks
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| Some of these cats dont know how to act
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| All them criminal acts aint got nuttin to do wit rap
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| One hand cuffuffed behind them backs in black
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| Quiet riot, yall cant hear one hand clap
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| Revolution is more than what you hear and what you see
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| The mass reintroduction
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| Of society to society
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| Together we got 100 years of sobriety
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| These clones
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| Who be flippin like new phones be surprisin me Turned out
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| They happy just to be in the house
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| So im a call emout
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| I aint no church mouse
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| Luvout
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| I master rap
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| Write a 16 and half of that
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| Then eat some mix greens after that
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| My raps niggerish black like licorice
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| While wack rappers get rich off some jibberish
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| The hoods begging for deliverance"g"
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| I’m just a hood figure to deliverance this
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| L y should get into the «sy»
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| I’m thinkng me and pe should have passed it on Society’s the menace
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| He get’s more love than tennis
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| On the road to riches
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| Cause revolutions expensive
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| Finance whips. |
| finance clips spend our chips
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| In the ghetto raising rebelz with some fine azz tits.
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| No champagne no campaign no ice on my wrist
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| While bred’z dipp’n on fedz sipp’n on crys
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| Out of my mind ethiopian wine on my lips
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| Still aint signed the master mind
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| The masters mine. |
| hey!!!
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| Back in your dome where the rebelz rome
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| The greatest weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed
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| Public enemy the 7th octave we out |