| Hear what I say, we are the business today
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| Fuck shit is finished today (What)
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| RT and J—we the new PB & J
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| We dropped a classic today (What)
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| We did a tablet of acid today
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| Lit joints with the matches and ashes away
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| SKRRRT! |
| We dash away
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| Donner and Dixon, the pistol is blasting away
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| Doctors of death
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| Curing our patients of breath
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| We are the pain you can trust
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| Crooked at work
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| Cookin' up curses and slurs
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| Smokin' my brain into mush
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| I became famous for flamin' you fucks
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| Maimin' my way through the brush
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| There is no training or taming of me and my bruh
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| Look like a man, but I’m animal raw
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| We are the murderous pair
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| That went to jail and we murdered the murderers there
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| Then went to Hell and discovered the devil
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| Delivered some hurt and despair
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| Used to have powder to push
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| Now I smoke pounds of the kush
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| Holy, I’m burnin' a bush
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| Now I give a fuck about none of this shit
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| Jewel runner over and out of this bitch
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| Woo!
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| Woo!
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| Step into the spot like, woo!
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| Woo!
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| Copping of uppers and downers get done
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| I’m in a rush to be numb
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| Droppin' a thousand ain’t much
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| Come from the clouds
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| On a missile to turn this whole town into dust
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| Don’t make a sound, baby, hush
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| I am the living swipe right, on the mic I’m a slut
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| I don’t know how to not spit like a lout
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| I’ll spill a pound of my kids on your couch
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| Half of a mongrel and mythical team
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| Villainous treacherous things
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| Legend says El is a spawn out of Hell
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| The myth is my mama’s a murderous queen
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| Your life can end like in Godfather 1
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| You get the gun as I christen my son
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| If I die today and it’s Hell I should pay
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| Tell the Lord «Mikey said, „Fuck, it was fun“»
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| Every new record’s my dick in a box
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| We get a doozy, the moola’s a lock
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| You’re getting used to me doing no wrong
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| I don’t play chicken, you prick, I’m a fox
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| You wanna kick it, I’ll give you the rocks
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| You kiss the wood chipper blade if you bark
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| I’m fuckin' magic, in fact I’m a warlock of talk
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| I got a unicorn horn for a (Stop)
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| Woo!
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| Woo!
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| Step into the spot like, woo!
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| Woo!
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| And the crowd goes RTJ!
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| And the crowd goes RTJ!
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| And the crowd goes RTJ!
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| And the crowd goes RTJ!
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| RTJ!
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| RTJ!
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| RTJ!
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| RTJ!
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| Mike Pentangeli won’t snitch
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| I’ll rent a room at the Ritz
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| I’ll sip a fifth of the whisk
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| I’ll smoke a dub in the tub
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| Then I will split both my wrists
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| I’ll pull a sword on you simps
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| Just with a flick of the wrist
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| Get your neck giving up mist
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| Me and Mike skip away whistlin' and grin
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| Every day’s golden when you only win
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| Bullyin' bastards and beatin' on beats
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| Sounds like a day at the beach, preach
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| I keep it middle school, step on your feet
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| Before you can speak, blaow! |
| to the teeth
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| We move among the ones you think are meek
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| You think I’m lion, you right, see my teeth
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| Don’t be a bore when I’m roaring vamoose
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| Hunting’s no fun when your prey doesn’t move
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| I’ll put a gun to a bunny like choose
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| Say somethin' funny or bunny go boom
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| You got a bevy of shit you could groove
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| We’d like to thank you for choosing our crew
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| And that’s from the crew you can trust
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| Warranty plus for fuckin' shit up
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| We are the no-gooders, do-gooders
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| Known to the dancers and dealers and doers of dust |