| You herbs we merged, we’re an alliance
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| We fight fire with flamethrowers, why would you try us?
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| We an outfit, equivalent to Voltron’s
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| That boy Crooked I is equivalent to four arms
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| Joell Ortiz is the body
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| The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body
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| Joe Budden is the pair of legs
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| He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head
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| I am the general, bow now
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| Fuck saluting!
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| I don’t really think y’all niggas get it
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| Run up on your with a army it is
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| On until it’s done, finished
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| You got a problem with any one of my slaughters
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| Then y’all niggas can come with it
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| Me and Joey, we a perfect fit
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| He like starting shit, I like ending shit
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| I don’t squash the beef, I don’t bend a bit
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| It ain’t intricate
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| I’m gon' shoot your stupid ass
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| You too could laugh, you gon' die smiling
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| Try wilding, I get hostile then I’m violent
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| I don’t make threats nigga I promise
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| My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics
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| If you hear it, it’ll lift your spirit
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| Turn your appearance into a disappearance
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| Di, Di, Di, Di, Di, Di, Di, Di, Di, Ding
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| I fuck with nothing but gangstas
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| Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off… HUT!
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| I fuck with nothing but my clique
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| Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off… HUT!
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| I fuck with nothing but gangstas
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| Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off… HUT!
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| I put my money on my clique, hot shit
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| Coming out the barrel of my fifth
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| I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so
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| Guess that’s why I’m the torso
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| I pour sweat when I perform shows
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| What I record goes down as the best, but the vets won’t let that torch go
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| Y’all could keep it, they got flashlights now
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| And flamethrowers, and I got one on my back right now
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| Remain focused, that’s what I tell myself now and then
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| Don’t want to go back to that block like when Varejao defends
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| Uh-oh, my stomach growls again, I ain’t none of you cowards friends
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| Every human out of my sight before I count to ten
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| One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
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| I’m hungry like I never ate
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| Set a table up with knives, forks and spoons, I’m 'bout to get a plate
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| All these sweet dummies looking me like a pepper steak
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| Means we never seperate, we ain’t married
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| Jab it everytime I touch a pen, I sort of set a date
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| I’ll devestate your career, look I’m a demonstrate
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| Let me get a good breath take before I regulate
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| (Takes Breath) Okay, bye bye you guys, don’t try to rhyme
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| Cause line for line
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| What I design is mine and mine
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| My joint’s divine, meaning right behind
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| And thank God it shines all the light in mine
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| So my eyes can find a nice dime to grind
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| Come here girl, toma, toma, take that, take that
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| You rappers chasing popularity by any means, doing silly things
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| Buying too many size 20 skinny jeans
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| The west treat me like I’m really king
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| I’m Pacquiao in the Phillipines, illest thing niggas seen
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| You rappers dressing like you fittin to sing Billie Jean
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| I got to intervene, fuck you I’m a intervene
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| You loud talking, wouldn’t kill a thing
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| Matter of fact, where’s your head nigga? |
| I got the guillotine
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| Fuck your Hollywood limousine and rented bling
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| I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam
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| I’ll put your pad on your property, fag
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| Properly rob you and hop in the Jag
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| If you stopping the profit, the glock will be popping your body
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| You’ll rock a colostomy bag
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| Shot in the abs, moms will be sad
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| Pops will be mad, doctor be glad
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| Possibly be stopping the plasma dropping
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| Clock running out and the outcome bad
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| Any one of you niggas fuck with my team
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| Pretty ass thing with the infrared beam
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| Sleep on that and get killed while you dream
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| Fuck a rap group Slaughterhouse a machine
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| Slaughterhouse, a regime
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| I’m gooned up if you know what I mean
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| Everybody want to be down with the king
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| No, no, no, no, no fly zone.
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| My one goal’s to astonish
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| Tell the President, VP, (you could) notify the Congress
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| They say I’m arrogant, pompous, but I’m honest
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| I tell them keep an accomplice away from the accomplished
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| They still making threats on your highness
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| But I tell them where I be, they just ignore the compass
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| I think all your mans' play dough, I don’t buy that movie, Fandango
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| Fans they know that what? |
| You a soldier to a general
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| Baby steel, got it in a bag, airtight Navy SEAL
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| Tell them little dudes I ain’t mad at y’all
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| College kids like Asher Roth
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| Y’all just trying to put food on the table
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| While I’m a just come and try to snatch it off
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| If it ain’t for me
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| Most young dudes would be angrily
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| But anxiously awaiting bankruptcy
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| Wonder what makes little motherfuckers think they the same as me
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| I’m synchronised you and your men should die
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| Learn certain shit you ain’t meant to try
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| Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise
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| Best bet is to attempt to fly
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| Shit’s a game, you down, you in for life
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| Fuck y’all, I ain’t got to generalize
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| Y’all enabled to write what the pen describes
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| So when he asked what I meant and why, I tell him |