| I shapeshift to a spliff
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| Light myself up
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| Ignite the mic and felt up
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| Your butter shit get melt up
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| Your mic is falling on, needs to be helped up
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| Snatch your rap belt up
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| Blaze the tron, eon the phenom
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| I’m on par with rap czars
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| Fascist dictators
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| Dick starbuck and I’m playin space invaders
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| Standin so close, made you liable
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| Turn your rap Bible to the false idols
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| I been bringin doom to the groom
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| Snatchin up the bridal
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| I’ll hoch paragraphs, invest in ebola
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| Fuck you up like pop rocks and coco-cola
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| Tryin to be cute like mun chi chi
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| Really catch a nut from munchin on deez
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| Hundreds please, honey don’t make a peep
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| In 2g it’s only our word that we keep
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| You in the wrong place
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| You in the wrong time
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| You with the wrong someone
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| Smut peddlers, false poets get done
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| One by one, by one by one
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| You in the wrong place
|
| You in the wrong time
|
| You with the wrong someone
|
| Smuth peddlers, false poets get done
|
| Every morning, every evening
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| You in the wrong place
|
| Seen the stupid look on your face
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| Get done/dunn like warrick, but never even saw it
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| Yo cage show em how you go
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| Inject the raw shit, mc’s gonna forfeit
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| I was thrown in this lifeform wit basic essentials
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| Like screamin over other cats' rhymes like they instrumentals
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| Sacrifice mics, in front of my following
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| You shit your insides out and go barefoot wallowing
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| Swallowing, woodern crosses, I’m nauseous
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| Fourth the pale horses, insect lynches, dental flosses
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| Don’t practice witchcraft, I got a craft which shits
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| My name stand between mc’s lips like clits
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| Threw you off the roof cuz you thought your ass was fly
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| Till I bungeed off the top and stuck needles in your third eye
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| Wild shit like this comes from boredom in my forehead
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| My cousin in serbia said there’s more dead
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| And there’s even more dead livin upstate
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| Middletown new york where young girls and dogs procreate
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| Call your local agent up for a fix
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| If you outta cake, I’ll take duct-taped up playmates
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| When the weakest of the foodchain steps it up
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| You might come complete with a lot of bullshit
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| Witness legendary tales as opposed to clones
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| They like microscopic versions of indiana jones
|
| ?? |
| lost, temple of doom the chorus
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| Goin out like the last crusade against the source
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| You know my name like the blonde flame tryin clone it
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| What opponents? |
| those are kids I spit on last year
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| Still soaking
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| Think about the battle before you start em
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| You’d be better off with a john rocker jersey up in harlem
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| Shitted on the tidybowl man, left his boat
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| Left him fuckin drownin in the trek that I quote
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| I turn your tranquil land into a savage garden
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| Eon run through new york like curtis martin
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| The shit talker, the spittin litterbug
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| I’m watchin you little children like a babysitter does |