| My philosophy of kings,
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| colossal in this proportions when I’m realizing the brain. |
| Putting cats in they
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| places.
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| I’m royal, call me a king,
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| My crown dripping with amethyst gems and thistle leaves.
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| Rocked up in holy scriptures on yachts fashioned from wreathes.
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| Hips laying thick with waist beads,
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| womb ripe enough to place seeds.
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| I’m talking full so fellas take heed.
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| It sound so bionic it could make your face bleed.
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| Take it easy, please.
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| I’m a lover not a fighter,
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| but keep pressing, sure that you would turn me to a liar.
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| A small drink of water with a belly full of fire.
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| And if there’s any question you can answer to Messiah.
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| My goons study sons who war is art, my art is war.
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| I could give it all but trust me less is more.
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| Sayin you don’t wanna buck and try to test a Mu’ur.
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| Slay a devil with the same hand I bless the poor.
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| Let me break it down for you again.
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| Baby girl got all the right weaponry.
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| You know I only say it cause I’m truly genuine.
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| People seem to like her style.
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| Neck and wrist laced up, very little makeup.
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| Repping red, black and green green.
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| Quiet, listen close, and maybe you’ll learn something.
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| I ain’t have to learn to emcee, dammit I was born with it!
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| The witch doctor, I heal the sick quick with rich lines align their spines to
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| sit proper,
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| keep my wine charged up and wrapped with thick copper
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| Pay attention cuz I’m prone to shift often.
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| You might find me in the car speaking well off at the bar
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| like a deaf, (?) «Can I get a bowl of gel off in the star (?)»
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| Sike, I don’t drink; |
| I’m cool with o.j. |
| in the straw.
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| The hemmy rhymer start to shout «Alhamdulillah»
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| I control the mic device like a professional,
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| speak the truth like I’m loose in the confessional.
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| I don’t do the rosary thing; |
| I count malas.
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| Run with same homers, catch and build with street scholars.
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| My crew beaming, black shine, auras beaming.
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| Sure to stay strong in the rec while y’all leaning.
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| Neck laced with gold rope chains we A-teaming.
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| I spit that good-good so the crowd stay fienin'.
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| Let me break it down for you again.
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| Baby girl got all the right weaponry.
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| You know I only say it cause I’m truly genuine.
|
| People seem to like her style.
|
| Neck and wrist laced up, very little makeup.
|
| Repping red, black and green green.
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| Quiet, listen close, and maybe you’ll learn something.
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| I have to learn to emcee, dammit I was born with it!
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| Sa-Roc, the Earth is putting GodHop up on the map with every verse she rapped
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| and cursed the non-believers they don’t know how to act.
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| I tried to told em a slave is still a slave
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| without the shackles on the wrists. |
| Their mental range is to restrain.
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| Step out the box and get creative just to lock you in.
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| Got you thinking that you made; |
| You’re so much more than just a pretty pen.
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| Silly men, try and fill the room the cosmic (?) just enough
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| Forced to make me laugh I crush em in the magic fisticuffs.
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| Open ya eyes, blink once for yes if you with me.
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| Or hide inside your straw house with the other little piggies.
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| He gon' huff and he puff and he blow ya house down
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| cause the wolf got a taste for the indigenous brown.
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| You know, the blacker the berry the sweeter juice.
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| Don’t bother asking round, inside the pudding holds proof.
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| They idolize the black gods for Mars, some floss, and space cars.
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| Now the trick, is for us to see how powerful we really are.
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| Let me break it down for you again.
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| Baby girl got all the right weaponry.
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| You know I only say it cuz I’m truly genuine.
|
| People seem to like her style.
|
| Neck and wrist laced up, very little makeup.
|
| Repping red, black and green green.
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| Quiet, listen close, and maybe you’ll learn something.
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| I ain’t have to learn to emcee, dammit I was born with it! |