| I’m back! |
| The god remains, still at the end
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| They sabotage the game, still I’m a win
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| Rakim Allah’s the name, and with a pen
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| No one can dodge the rain, kill’em again
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| In a club or the streets I swerve, cool in the cut
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| Looking to see what occurs, crusin’the truck
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| Shorty got deadly curves, soothin’her up If I must explain with words, I smooth as a fuck!
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| The world’s most greatest hip-hop's elite
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| You obsolete, you cannot compete, drop the beat
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| Keep ya ear to the ground when I rock the street
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| Cock the heat, we deep papi got to eat
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| So cut on the mic and spit, I much rougher
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| Plenty of ice and a whip, plus a crusher
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| Because I don’t like to stick, or bust a brother
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| Long as they never forget I’m a ill muther fucker
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| So if you love to get your party on And you feel that your game is strong
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| And you get mad when the broads is gone
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| You like it all-night-long
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| And when they love it when the place is warm
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| And they go out for their favorite song
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| They hate when the player game is wrong
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| They like it all-night-long
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| (2nd verse)
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| My caliber’s out rated
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| Yeah player, so why hate it My rhyme through out of control, when I say it Spit back with a rap or gat, can I spray it How can I say it? |
| I leave it de-hydrated
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| I take aim, and he keep the place flamin'
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| Till the place cave in, aye yo this ain’t a safe haven
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| The best is yet to come, so they stay in They keep the music loud, the lights is low
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| The kid with a different style, I like to flow
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| It’s time to move the crowd, tonight’s the show
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| See what it’s all about, they like to go Get henny and mo and cris, the clothes, the platinum, gold, the wrist
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| Plenty of doe, and chicks who pose for flicks
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| Women who love roll their hips, when I’m holding this
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| (Instrumental chorus)
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| My mic’s a equipped with a microchip, with a million Megs
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| Bite this I might flip, spread a billion plagues
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| Put medicine in it before I kill ya dead
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| You can get away, if you can fill your legs
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| Could you walk? |
| No, at least you thought though
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| Auto fours blow a hole in your torso
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| Damage his brain with more flow until he talk slow
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| Try to say something now? |
| I thought so!
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| I leave emcee’s bleeding, while I’m fleeing across sea-in
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| Start breeding, double my Swiss cheese in Sweden
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| Free on the weekend, come back see if he breathing
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| They breathing, somebody left his brains beat in A deadly attack is rare, style will be raw
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| Be ready to rap you’ll hear, as wild as before
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| If I bust a gat in the air, watch the galaxy fall
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| And the world will be splat on the floor, that’ll be all |