| Fuck this sage francis faggot shit
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| Is this hip hop or a starbucks coffee shop
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| This is xaul zan, I’ll show you how I do it in my neck of the woods
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| It’s like…
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| You don’t have to write a poem
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| I guess I just hate MCs who act like they’re groggy
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| Grab the microphone
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| And resuscitate the life of the party
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| I got a right to be cocky
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| The girlies want me bad
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| Throw my blows and hockey dads give me herpes
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| I’ll be mad
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| You turkeys lolly-gag, emitting the worst stench
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| I got your mommy gagged
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| And she’s sitting on my workbench
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| Handed her a wrench
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| I let her work my nuts a bit
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| To have her thirst quenched
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| Yeah I let her take another sip
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| For the fuck of it I freaked the funk on 45s
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| Silly suckers think I’ll sit just listening to all their jive
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| I’m the sort of guy to cook your family fix for dinner
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| I’ll make your daughter cry when she wakes up
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| With some fingers in her
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| Listen to lynyrd skinner
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| I’ll sell your pretty heart
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| Now let’s tittyfuck while I get naked like iggy pop
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| She sees my mini-cock
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| She wants no small man
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| Runnin around the city block, yellin out…
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| It’s Xaul Zan!
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| I sip from a tall can and take big gulps
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| The dodgeball champ, I’m the reason why your kid sulks
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| Feeding the shit out adults
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| Ripping the deeds to your house
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| And I’ma fuck you in your face till you bleed out your mouth
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| Smooth, not what I am
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| Rough… Xaul Zan
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| Smooth, not what I am
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| Rough… Xaul Zan |