| Check it, yo My presence is, overshadowin, we spit different
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| Your album’s like a bad stock tip, I lose interest
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| I’ma kinda nice, keep your distance
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| You beg to differ, that’s sicker
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| Somethin my mindframe can’t picture
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| For 'Pac I pour liquor, in peace may you rest
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| If only the best rappers die then I know that I’m next
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| Never impressed; |
| lyrically, shittin on crews
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| I rhyme first, what makes you think they checkin for you?
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| So you wanna battle? |
| Cobra gets vindictive, you ain’t heard?
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| Stomp a nigga face out, watch his teeth make love to the curb
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| Can’t say a word, he’s layin there emotionless
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| His head similar to a grape, crushed from a wine press
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| Oh what a mess, don’t stain the sheer Gucci dress
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| Curse me when (??) steps in your presence
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| You can’t do nothin less, but respect the na-na
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| Known to chop you into pieces like chefs at Benihana, uhh!
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| Yeah, uh-huh uh-huh, uh-huh; |
| yo.
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| Rockin it raw, exactly who I’m rockin this for
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| I’m rockin this for, Lyricist Lounge, hip-hop and that’s all
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| No stoppin there’s more, droppin this so cop this in the stores
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| Heard they needed a interlude, so I just had to record
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| a couple of bars of punishment, to show y’all niggaz who’s runnin shit
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| Songs of scorn, I squeeze a fist and crush buildings
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| and touch millions, man women plus children
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| Villains and such, Life as it Is the LP about to touch billions
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| You don’t wanna go bar for bar with these wild +Coyotes+
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| that’ll turn the spot +Ugly+ if you out of line homey
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| Cause y’all niggaz done had your time to shine, spittin your game
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| Now that shit is gon’change dawg when Guilty bang
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| You need to really stop reachin like it’s somethin top secret
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| when we all know that the only thing you pop is Pop Secret
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| Yo the game is in me, these cats tried to bang it in me
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| The way these fools actin they deservin an Emmy
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| Uhh, yeah
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| Y’all should get your act together, and get motivated
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| My album highly anticipated, one of the greatest
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| A long drawn out victory
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| History with no mystery, it was so sick of me to drop concepts, buildin up the reps
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| Ideas sparked the mind of my peers, get you in gear
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| Confident, in my confidant, ruler renaissance
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| Tour de France, drink liquor for launch
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| Carte blanche wherever I go, never repetitive flow
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| Platin more seeds and watchin 'em grow
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| Yo, yo. |