| Yo, yo. |
| jungle habitat, peep the wildlife in the open
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| Off the hook, nigga dial twice if it’s broken
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| Doc, wall to wall with a mic and I’m loc’n, shit
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| You might find termites in the chokin (?), yes
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| D.O., my wood grain say, «Fuck P.O.» |
| (Okay!)
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| And I’ll prove it when I redline a buck-three-oh
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| Hoes wit it, but never gave a fuck befo'
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| I’m frontin a hundred on top, and ones below
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| Bitches — fuck you star hoes, my hoes run out
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| Department stores with alarms and bar codes on
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| Think you catchin me and my bitch? |
| You dead wrong
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| I’m over here prepared, blowin a air horn
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| You niggas talk widdit
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| I do it blind blindfolded without walkin with sticks
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| As dark as it gets, you slept in the Bricks
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| Now you lose — like e’ry year, you betin the Knicks
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| We walk, dogs with more balls than pool rooms (Okay!)
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| Attitude wolf, I react to full moons (aoooooo)
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| I, shoot up the place so y’all can see
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| You stuck up like them white boys on Harley’s be
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| Are you ready to get, high with Doc (Okay!)
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| If you high nigga then lick a shot (That's right!)
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| All my niggas out in Brooklyn keep your heaters cookin
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| Keep the mamis lookin (Yeah yeah!)
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| Are you ready to get, high with Doc (Okay!)
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| If you high nigga then lick a shot (That's right!)
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| All my niggas out in Jersey keep smokin the hershey
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| Keepin your money thirsty (Yeah yeah!)
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| Yo, yo dawg, I’m an MC, I don’t think how you rap stars’ll think
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| I rush you, like you made the last call for drinks
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| My pipes burst and I ain’t installed the sink
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| A radiator, I keep it in the car to mink
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| Chk-chk, yo trail the Bricks where I wrestle grizzly bears (Okay!)
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| And stick a track for it’s snare and kick
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| When it’s committed, damned if you see 'em again
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| Cold-hearted, leaves fall off the tree on my Timbs
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| Help me; |
| I keep the flow cold like your wrists
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| The words practically geronimo off the disk
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| When Flex bomb it look, everybody runnin
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| You bitches goin wild, even Kitey wanna tongue 'em
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| I’m like the Gooch, lookin for Arnold Drummond
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| Walkin with a trenchcoat to part the pumpin
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| Like MJ, I wanna be startin somethin
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| Whoever ain’t widdit, gotta move widdit
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| One-fo'-fo' hydro smoke to choke on (Okay!)
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| Branson holdin handguns to toke on
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| Uptown with Big L watchin over
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| He tell me there’s NARC’s parked on the shoulder
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| (Look over there) I don’t care, cause I’m drunk as hell
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| Shit I do eighty on a speed bump to bail
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| Doc Deebo, keep both cannons on reload
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| Weed keep my fingertips yellow like Cheetos
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| Are you ready to get, high with Doc (Okay!)
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| If you high nigga then lick a shot (That's right!)
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| To my niggas in Atlanta that, carry the hammer
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| Wrap 'em with bandanas (Yeah yeah!)
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| Are you ready to get, high with Doc (Okay!)
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| If you high nigga then lick a shot (That's right!)
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| To my niggas in the Chi, that smoke on the lai
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| Proceed to gun-fire (Yeah yeah!)
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| Yo, to my bitches, my niggas jump up
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| It’s Elmer Fudd with the shotty pump, who want duck?
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| Ride in my hooptie, back, slumped up
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| Five niggas with me, strap, pumped up
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| Dump Forrest Gump, hand on the pump
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| Janitor, gettin drunk off a janitor drum
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| Way I spit, on my tongue, I branded the gun
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| Tarzan, I rap loud, animals come.
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| . |
| I’m on top of a giraffe neck
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| Throwin spears, I’m Def Squad in both ears
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| Y’all niggas ready for streets? |
| Here it is
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| Circle status, with no pyramids
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| Are you ready to get, high with Doc (Okay!)
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| If you high nigga then lick a shot (That's right!)
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| To my niggas in the West that walk without a vest
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| That just brrrrrap (Yeah yeah!)
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| Are you ready to get, high with Doc (Okay!)
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| If you high nigga then lick a shot (That's right!)
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| To my bitches in the Bricks that get they money quick
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| That get they pussy licked (Yeah yeah!)
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| Are you ready to get, high with Doc (Okay!)
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| If you high nigga then lick a shot! |