| The duo is back, competition check out the new style
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| Then get the heck out
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| Put on your battlin’gear, but don’t come strapped
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| Bullets are not needed, this time it’s rap for rap
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| I’m makin’the move, and soon you’ll have to make yours back
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| In fact, the further the rhyme is dancin', Jack will get a lip smack
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| So break up because it’s time you shook up, you gotta make up It’s time to break up the party, now you’re shook up Salt and Pepa’s gettin’swift, livin’up to par
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| And competition, how to Whassup is to ride the bra strap
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| Hurby’s on the beats, Steevee-O has the musical notes
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| Spinderella’s like a propeller spinnin’music so dope
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| Makin’a lot of noise for all the boys shootin’the gift
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| Hold on tight cuz tonight Salt and Pepa’s gettin’swift
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| You might have thought about goin’against the spices
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| Salt and Pepa’s a mixture like Chinese rices
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| Battlin’time, Mr. Macho, please don’t try to rip
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| Because I’ll melt ya like Nacho cheese
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| You want flavor, well here’s something to savor
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| Why don’t you wave a microphone in front of my face
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| And a do small favor, gimme a beat so I can bust a rhyme
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| For all the nerds, let all the words feed your mind
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| Statin’the things and pleasin', takin’a rest, I’m out for easin'
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| Bodily functions makin''em dance and Pep, this is the Christmas season
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| This is duck season, and I’m gettin’high
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| You’re outta luck, duck, now it’s time for you to get and die
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| The ebony queens are back on the scene
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| I assume you still suck like a vacuum machine
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| Cornball sucker, give me a break
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| I’m-a drop you from the sky like snow, you a cornflake
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| Born to break any sucker or half-stepper
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| Who wants to get assaulted with a deadly pepper
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| Go down, low-down, this ain’t no showdown
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| The competition, I’m sure they’ll blow down
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| Even if you seem to stand stiff
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| The breeze of the rhyme makes you move, and we get swift
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| Suckers and flukes, it seems you lost and time to put up dukes
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| Cuz you just forced it, the furious females to fly to (fuck) with
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| Stay stiff suckers, soon you’ll be stuck with a rep, torn to shreds
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| A musical score leg, need a victory? |
| I left an 'S'on your forehead
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| Don’t fuse up now, it’s time to put out lights
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| I won’t ease up, pal, cuz I’m-a go outta sight
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| Lyrical queen, mess around, and you’ll get creamed
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| The star of every male’s fantasy or wetdream
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| The ebony princess in a lyrical safari
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| Battlin’me is like a Honda racing a Ferrari
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| If you were the king, what laws would you have me obey?
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| None, my son, cuz I’m quicker than a ???
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| Quick to split the chick tryin’to get slick
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| You’re nothing but a prostitute turning a new trick
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| Little Miss Wench, my mind is a trench
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| Makes you drop, then you stop in your tracks and as I clench
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| My fist, I twist words you use to rip
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| The next time you flex, I’m guaranteed to get swift
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| Hip-hopper's, rap artists, and rhyme fanatics
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| Can you believe there’s a sucker trying to cause static?
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| Break out the health supplies and medical aid
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| Prepare your mind for a super, alphabetical raid
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| Rhythmic explosion without corrosion
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| Rhymes, in effect, that protect like a Trojan
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| Against disease, sorta like a wack MC
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| Rhymes more powerful than a punch at Jack Dempsy
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| I fear no one, plus I tell no tales
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| I will stand up to any male or female
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| Ones who persist to resist end up a prisoner
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| Hissed in a daze or a faze because he is in a State of shock, too hard for one to take
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| So in a multitude of crowds I run to break
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| Beats for torture, but don’t get played
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| I stay paid, I caught ya now you shook, you’re afraid
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| Scared of the fact we came back to uplift
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| The name, we designed the game, and we get swift |