| The law defier, the non-complier
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| The death defier, the Mike Myers
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| Murder rapper for hire
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| Do-er of drive byers, the back back clack clack
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| Let it loose murder, all witnesses and survivors
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| That’s a job completer, dependable contractor
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| The back hand wack rap slapper
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| Mr. leather bomber attacker
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| Catch ya getting off the escalator
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| Run the Jewels smooth and don’t trigger the undertaker
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| As a teen lacking, I woulda ran me a supreme racket
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| I woulda took these lames' Supreme jackets
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| Until you rob a hype beast, you ain’t seen sadness
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| «Clockwork Orange"madness, left the scene laughin'
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| Ayy, we forever-ever,
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| Jaimito y Michael the Render
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| The pyrotechnicrats the' ol razzle dazzlers
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| The magic bean imbibers (Yes)
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| The green giant of the rhyme contrivers (Yes)
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| Supreme violence of the time describers (Yes)
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| I’m the decider, you evil eyers
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| A pile driver provider for liars, the sleep depriver
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| The nick of time mercy kill denier in prime
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| I’ll kill the mood of a Buddhist MacGyver
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| I’ll slap a yapper from the acne to the tooth bone fiber, I’m liver
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| Thought crime designer criminal minder
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| And I’m a born and bred in USA who chop and screw truth up
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| Think I got a case of the Mondays, on fire
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| Ayo, one for mayhem, two for mischief
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| Now aim for the drones in your zoning district
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| Hindenburg 'em, get 'em, burn 'em
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| Can’t give the ghost up, no resistance
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| Pass that shit, Mike, I have to insist it
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| Reality sucks dick, how’s that for wisdom?
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| I’ll lick a toad’s back like, «Mmm, delicious»
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| Time elves wave to me off in the distance
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| Hey lil' guy I’m just walkin' through
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| From another timeline where monsters eat truth
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| Physicists say the dough I get’s proof
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| The multiverse lives, I’m supposed to just lose
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| The glass bottom tank I drive is all fueled
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| Better try to stay cool honey bunny don’t move
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| Fuck shit glows in the hearts of the brutes
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| You hate Run The Jewels, you don’t love the troops
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| You miss the point tryna act like shit’s cool
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| Don’t fuckin' tell doom your number’s not due
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| Every other goddamned year I’m brand new
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| It’s been 20 plus years you think that’s a clue?
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| Maybe this guy kinda kills what he do
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| He’s prolly that dude he left enough proof
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| Plenty of these goofs just disappeared, poof
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| I’m still the next big thing, gotta hurt, oof, I got
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| Fire, fire, fire, hot fuego
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| This the pay back, allow me to state that
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| All that forth back, we don’t play that
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| You want beef, bruh, you just state that
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| And we steak that, fry and bake that
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| One time in the big old south
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| Lived a lil chubby kid with a big ol' mouth
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| Lame writers gave him big ol' doubts
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| Now the same lil boy in a big ol' house
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| Look at him now in the big ol' cars
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| And the same folk hated pay big homage
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| One minute let me be candid
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| Used to stand by the garbage can hand to handin'
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| That dumb trap shit, no proper planning
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| Seen ignorant shit like geekers dancing
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| And rappers rap about it like it’s so romantic
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| But I still can’t seem to escape the panic
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| PTSD streets did the damage
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| Kept me in hammock, laid back with cannons
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| Get me fucked up, it be’s calamity
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| I’ma come through and leave some damages
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| Goddamn somebody call 'ambulams', or ambulances out of chances
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| Fuck that weak shit, you be bantering
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| You’re a common cold and my flows are cancerous
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| Fire, fire, fire, hot fuego
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| Take that, mother… |