| With my x-ray vision
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| See through you lames for days
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| Every bullet counts
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| And we don’t bust strays
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| I pop you in your waves
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| Leave your shit, spittin'
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| Hollow heads in your head
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| Head on head collision
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| I’m bad news
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| Extra, extra, read about me
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| Blowin', stolen
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| Cops glockin' 197 lobby
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| My philosophy making niggas think they rockin' me
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| They can’t possibly!
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| I’m not a suspect, i’m far from that
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| And that uncontrolled substance
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| Like crack, cocaine
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| And Inspectah Deck
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| I don’t know how yall see it
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| But it clean ya specks
|
| I’m too complex, what you say complex?
|
| I leaved you stressed with a complex
|
| You better stop playin' games
|
| That’s the advice I suggest
|
| I walk like I’m at war
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| Talk like I’m at war
|
| Don’t sleep like it ain’t war
|
| You speak like it ain’t war
|
| Better read the «Art Of War»
|
| Before crossing my lines
|
| You better read the «Art Of War»
|
| Before crossing my lines
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| It ain’t over till we even
|
| I even got the life support
|
| Machines just to keep you breathin'
|
| I’m beef increasing, bees in season
|
| You can be my 8 by 10 photo
|
| In the 120 in prison
|
| I’m runnin' to your vision, squeezin'
|
| For no reason, make it so hot
|
| Hot summer, Shyheim should be a season
|
| Be the greatest like Ali Muhamed
|
| We get a million youths to march
|
| Trough New York like I live Muhamed
|
| Predicted platinum by Nostradamus, ya know should dimers
|
| 27 conglomerates, we communists
|
| And ghetto richs to the extreme
|
| Devine put the money behind the dreams
|
| Of the microphone fiend
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| Now rushin' trough your screens…
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| Outro:
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| Bottom lines… |