| Machine gun rap for all my niggaz in the back
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| Stadium packed, linebacker nigga flashback
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| See through yellow lines
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| Rock a fly jersey in the summertime God
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| Magic marker rap, bleed Benatton
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| Relaxed, wrote this, comin at cha crab ass cope
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| and snatch ya ice off, chillin in the back, throw the lights off
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| Waves, water blend, rhyme flow in slow motion
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| Thick snare, I’m feelin like a snail in the ocean
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| What’s your wish? |
| Wanna Kringle like Kris?
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| Melodic single, dark snap a nigga just like fish
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| You fucked up, some rich niggaz you done test yo Select the wrong apartment, and niggaz pulled up your dress
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| Style molest that, canal chain nigga where ya vest at Flex’ll make me wanna bless that, yo Saddam Hu-sane niggaz light the torch, we flamin niggaz
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| Autograph that, flatten all the main niggaz
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| It’s Yourz!
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| The world in the palm of your hand
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| It’s Yourz!
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| Twenty-three million of useful land
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| It’s Yourz!
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| The seed and the black wo-man
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| It’s Yourz!
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| Double LP from Wu-Tang Clan
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| It’s Yourz! |
| (2X)
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| Yo, super freak physique. |
| like Raphael Saadiq
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| Baby love the ganja leaf, everday of the week
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| Super friends wake up, deluxe gourmet beats
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| The night is right, I might find me a suite
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| It’s a quarter full moon, now I ride with my swoon
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| Well groomed, dance hall packed, full room
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| Lady move, peep my glide, peep my zoom
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| Keep in stride, smoke the lah smoke the boom
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| Feel the fumes, consume toxic tunes
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| Hell bound, species forty ounce typhoon
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| The ultra-violet scream machine move your body touch
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| The totem pole wobble Ark builders God rush
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| Beams of light, stop ya breathin -- it’s huntin season
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| Honey eye-ballin down for no reason
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| Grab her close, play post, wind and wax floors
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| Never mind the laws, cause tonight
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| It’s Yourz
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| Stop the fader of the RAM, pass my watts through my pre-amp
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| Them can’t stress the beat vamp the shit’ll get blam
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| at full throttle, hot lead propels throughout my nozzle
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| Crack your soul like bottles, leave you stiff as models
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| You fag, you couldn’t pull one drag -- off my blunt
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| You couldn’t punch your way out of a wet paper bag
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| with scissors in your hands -- bitch, the RZA
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| I stand close to walls, like number four the lizard
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| Enchant a few solar panels, blast off like Roman Candles
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| Rap vandals, stomp your ass like Wahoo McDaniel
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| You cocker spaniel dogs, can’t fuck with our catalog
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| Put your lights out and leave your brain inside a fog
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| It’s only natural, actual facts are thrown at you
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| The impact’ll blow trees back and crack statues
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| Million dollar rap crews fold, check the sick shit
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| explicit, I crystalize the rhyme so you can sniff it We live this, fitted hats low conceal the Crooked I No surprise, verbal stick up -- put em high
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| Rebel I, outlaw, split second on the draw
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| Blow the door off this shit, like bricks of C-4
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| Check out my beaver, baby blue glock in the safe
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| Seems Darthy and the God and get ski roll weight
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| We hold a belt Son, that’s my word
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| Spot a rapper run him down, throw him out in the third, yo check it I think like the man behind a register
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| Evergreen smokin estates, rhyme and power made me treasurer
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| With third down, six to go flash his strobe lights
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| I’m open RZA hit me off lovely and I love him
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| With root beer thoughts, here’s a tennis court
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| for your birthday, the babyface of rap politic with Sade
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| Avenging eagle crooks rock the W and Spiegel books
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| Annheiser Busch kings came through, and stopped your whole jooks
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| Spitfire Kangols, watch Tony train a gang of hoes
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| Painful like hearin the news, like when your man go Ends blow, windy at times watch the room sheisty girl
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| Love to sit out this song, now watch your water break
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| Chorus: latter ½ |