| Mic check, I walk around the Shao'
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| Wit the jet black nine by my waistline, kickin' the hype shit
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| I never claimed to be the best white rapper
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| But have to, show these muthafuckas what I’m after
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| I’m after ya soul, and after that, ya album
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| Beef after to that, Lounger Lo packs the gat, son
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| Chka-bang-bang, yo bust a slang wit my name
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| It’s the Rem-D, on the six train
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| Sike, you muthafuckin' right, tonight’s the night
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| To do what I wanna do, to make you like, wanna fight
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| What you expected when the darts been injected
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| I huff and puff and blow ya shit down, make ya head split
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| Huh, pop a pill, smoke a blunt and don’t front
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| On the izim, if you do, my man, we gettin' bizum
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| A weak addict, oh yes, puff the magic
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| And smoke it til it’s true, yes, I do, gots to have it
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| I don’t care about any fuckin' star
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| Cuz no matter who you are, you still catch a bullet scar
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| So listen up, or you’ll bleed for what I’m sayin'
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| Cuz tonight’s the night, and me and my people’s ain’t playin'
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| Yo, ain’t supposed to be playin' man
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| Aiyo, aiyo, what’s that? |
| That fat funky sting you’re smellin'
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| «I'mma give it to ya, give it to ya, give it tonight» — female singer
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| Piss and pee, for I takeover there, man
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| Word up, you see it, ya’ll, for real
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| I be the calling, man, aiyo Slash, hit me off one more time, baby
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| «Love me when you love you baby» — female singer
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| You wanna see me act fool, please, save it for the breeze
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| Cuz my lyrics in tracks, blow backs and buckle knees
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| Fuck the bullshit, I get down wit the two clips
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| And do shit, I shoot more shit then the troops hit
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| But tonight’s tonight, whether wrong or right
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| This type of shit, wit the flavor like raw spit
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| Smokin' out, and it figures, it figures
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| The peeps around me, keep their fingers on the triggers
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| I keep a shorty between my lap cool, and flyin' down the freeway
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| Coppin' a wop cuz it’s «me-day»
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| Went over to pick my toys up, we make a lot of noise
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| Cuz, we can do that, cat, in my habitat
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| Yo, be nimble, I do the type of evil that men do
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| Like pissin' out my window on a bitch and her friend too
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| So turn the volume up a notch and let me in ya crotch
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| Bu-bump, I hit ya g-spot
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| That’s the fuck, when I jump at nature
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| Like, hump, hump, hump, hump, hump, hump
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| But if you wanna see a dick gigantic, not romantic
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| More Slicker than my man Rick
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| You better check the White Pages, under Remedy
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| Cuz I ain’t down wit no enemy
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| Distribution fucked up my first album
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| But this time I’mma let my fuckin' style run
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| You, Jimmy Neutron, Frukwan
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| Hear another avalanche, huh, word up
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| «I'mma give it to ya, give it to ya, give it tonight»
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| I slip a mickey in ya bucket, push it up, real hard
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| Real hard, for sho', know what I mean
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| There’s gonna be talkin'
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| Wi-wi-wi-wiped by supply and demand
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| To expand my hand to the mic and let my mouth kick the phlim-phlam
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| I drink Bud, I drink Beck’s, I gets mad drunk
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| I get a shorty in the forty, we go fuck, yo, you
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| Aiyo take this shit off Charles man, aiyo, put the new record on, man
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| Yeah, put that new shit on… |