| Yeah… takin over
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| Shaolin, think before you speak
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| Speak before you move
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| Extreme intelligence, I mastered the elements
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| Remedy makin moves with my hands in new developments
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| Devious ways of thinkin, embezelments
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| Organized movements made with no evidence
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| Booby traps, half stacks, cracks and Cognac
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| Contract killers ran sack wit impact
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| Vandals, real live scandals
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| So all my people now deceased, rest in peace, light a candle
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| Multiple convictions, mad drug addictions
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| Blocks of extortion and pain inflictions
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| One man busted, another one dusted
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| Who got pinched? |
| Rolled over, re-adjusted
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| Human excretion, and plots of completion
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| Headsets, roamin politicians makin death threats
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| Friends who were bitches, pussy whipped turn snitches
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| Fifty white Mayans, whom we all dug ditches, what?
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| Life’s an up hill climb, with justice divine
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| No future, no past, the last days of time
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| Men oppress poor, man creates war
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| And more crime, these are the +Sands of Time+
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| We on some street life drug shit, money comes in bundles
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| Some live thug shit, and terratorial rumbles
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| Guns wit the drawn fine leathers
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| I love phat whips, exotic bitches, new Wu-Wear sweaters
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| When it’s dark out, mass makin moves and runs
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| As the night goes on, pitch black, like my lungs
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| Who the fuck are you? |
| That’ll crew wit me in two
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| Maybe more, can’t come? |
| Fuck, kick down ya door
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| Son, you can have beef and not know it
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| Have phat stacks and not show it, can’t help but to blow it
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| The live ones, do or die ones, flyin high ones
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| Drive-by ones, we all sons wit guns
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| Mathematicians studyin numbers in forms of sixes
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| Phat radar remixes for fixes
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| I wanna get rich like two hundred and fifty million
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| A quarter of a billion, spreadin mad love as I’m buildin
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| A fist full of dollars just splurgin in my organ
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| Sprayin mace in the eye of this damn new world in |