| Yo, this ain’t a Wu-Tang type slang, know what I’m sayin?
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| I wanna just represent the whole Clan
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| You know what I’m sayin?
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| The GZA, Prince Rakeem, you know what I’m sayin?, Ghostface Killah
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| Shallah Raekwon, Inspectah Deck, Baby-U, Method Man, 12 O’Clock
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| Dirty O', 62nd Assassinater, know what I’m sayin?, style is coming
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| Boom
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| This recorded and it’s dirty and it’s stinkin', funkier than regular
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| Abuse, so I was thinkin'- about, droppin’this single on the charts
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| Lettin ya know, hey! |
| — the kid has heart, I never deny myself as being
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| Dope, but in my last jam, didn’t slep on my notes
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| You thought that I was weak, huh?, let me speak
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| My rhymes come funkier than ya grandfathers feet, so listen mister
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| Don’t you ever forget the rhyme is dirty, you couldn’t even clean it
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| With Comet, for even more axe, some try Ajax
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| Only mix with the best, 48-tract-ya
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| I get down with the 8 sole sounds
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| Lyrics that be flowin’from miless around, so let the music
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| Shut ya ass up, then feel the uppercut, now I make ya fall to ya rutt
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| Cabush!!!, can I get up? |
| — Oof! |
| — Crazy Stouf!
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| Mad chamerz comin’at ya!, a 62nd Assassiner, strap into ya staminer
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| A hardcore freakin’avenor, tearin’up the vibe for set
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| Wit the mystery of Chess, -Boxin'at your mutherfuckin’text
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| Then ya slip, when I flip, only on that combatic shit
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| Rhymes comin straight from the fuckin’pits, so toggle up
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| Don’t puddle up, better yet just duck, I’m callin all earth-forms
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| Huh!, I don’t play games, I make pain, or migraines
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| Stick it to ya ass like pain’s, who in the hell did, ever drop shit
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| Ramminc1 |