| Turn it up 'cos I know how to use it
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| I like to hear the bass sound do the rebel rousing
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| Pop the damn multi on the s3000
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| That’s the shit makes the room prone to over-crowding
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| Now bring the sound in ' ooh! |
| It’s pounding!
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| 'scuse me homies, could you please be my cronies
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| And score me a two-pack of soft yellow foamies
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| 'cos I’m the type of guy that puts safety first
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| No safer muthafucka ever walked the earth
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| Strapped in all wheel hugging dual bag inflation
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| Safer than programmed amplitude modulation
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| Feeling a strange sensation?
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| That’s your brain son
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| Suffering from over-stimulation inflammation
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| By my reckoning you now have five seconds before lapsing into a coma
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| Tick this box to indicate you’re a donor
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| Would it be too bold to say I told you to hold the last bar over and over and
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| over?
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| I like repetitive music
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| Turn it up cos I know how to use it
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| I’m so fine I score 9.99 from Hollyfield in a Trump production even though I’m
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| 200 of a kind
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| So inclined to liposuction it’s sublime
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| Like Brittany’s larynx at the age of nine
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| Watch me try to justify my verbal diarrheaic diatribe
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| In a vain attempt to coincide with the beat
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| To which brains get tenderised
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| Lightly battered and deep fried on high
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| Once again son come get some beats
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| On the one loops on repeat done
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| Waveforms deformed, fantast, lyric gymnast
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| Bombast ecclesiast
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| Slap that ass hardcore
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| Make that shit red raw
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| Blow the disco, slam your head sore
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| Watch the sure cure beat the prevention
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| If you want more seek professional medical attention
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| I like repetitive music' |