| I’m taking my time to get the feel then adjust
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| I scope it all, I seen the writings on the wall
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| I read the room then moved along
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| I’m watching for snakes in my lawn and the longest arm of the law
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| We need body armor and bombs, I’m embalming them like Saddam
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| A sadistic ritual form, it’s in my nature I guess
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| I digress, back to the art for the of which I’m obsessed
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| The sonics connect like I’m RZA, bring it straight to yo' neck
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| I navigated through neglect and take the necessary steps
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| I pivot just to elevate, allowing my words to set in
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| To set the record straight, the realism’s how it resonates
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| in a song but fate a predetermined date
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| The derelict known to deceive, to put a want over a need
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| To fulfill the feeling of greed, the animalistic instinct
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| We been on the brink of extinction, the spiritual awakening releasing
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| The consciousness of the mind is peaking
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| Within a steady ground where there’s nothing new to believe in
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| Internal been my battle, where I fight my grievances
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| Demons been trying to steer me down a one-way with a blindfold
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| Heaven and hell, where we headed well only God knows
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| Either way they giving toe tags with a barcode
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| I hope we find the resolution
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| I hope we find the resolution
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| 'Cause it all looks grim
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| It all looks grim
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| I hope we find the resolution
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| I hope we find the resolution
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| 'Cause it all looks grim
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| It all looks grim
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| Yo yo, Fro, Fro, yo
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| Make way, say when
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| Stay blessed, y’all so
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| The rhymes that I rap are grim like MF with my wins and my bicep
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| Lyrically benchpress, never will be boredom when you are listening to the big
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| foot
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| Leave your power shortage and then Fro disappear in the woods
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| Onto a gritty battle like drug addicts in the alley, it can get grim
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| Mortality waiting, it get challenging
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| The of knowing crime is emotionless
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| The, the culprit, what kind of commotion is this?
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| The one that go gung-ho, hole in your lungs slow, quid pro quo
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| The cops close in, I’m running low
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| Six foot three, the suspect is black and Spanish
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| Crooked police, see me a threat, have to vanish
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| Have to manage, in this ice cold life like an eskimo, damage the mic
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| When I’m on sight, I’m 'bout to let it fro |