| «Are ya hungry?»
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| «Yeah, 'cause I owe you a knuckle sandwich!»
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| «I'm gonna hit you so hard it’ll make your ancestors dizzy»
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| Yea, yo!
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| I’m in the perfect position to throw a fist to your throat
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| Six in a row and I’m detonation cord, I’m fit to explode
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| These bitches and hoes, rippin' my clothes, lickin' my chode
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| Creepin' through darkest alleys, I don’t stick to the road
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| I’m the shit and the know, kick in the door, don’t aim high
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| I’m hittin' 'em low, better watch out the kid is a pro
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| No more empty pit in my soul, I quit the liquor and blow
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| Guess I’m switchin' my flow 'cause I don’t want my ticket to go
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| Yo, better believe it, I’mma leave 'em with the backhand
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| Never defeated, always weeded breathin' like a fat man
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| Keepin' em bleedin', takin' a beatin', probably need a CAT scan
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| Roll up the weed and then I proceed to follow the attack plan
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| With a couple obese chicks, I’m watchin' 'em mud wrestle
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| These rappers are cheese dicks they talkin' 'bout nuttin' special
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| They fool you with cheap tricks but I’m launchin' a scud missile
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| I’m spittin' extreme shit 'til I’m poppin' a blood vessel
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| You tryin' to pull some slick shit, I’m knockin' out your chicklets
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| Sweet dreams bitches, I ain’t talkin' about Eurythmics
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| Sent your Mom some dick pics, my fingers smell like fish sticks
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| Givin' you a noogie, purple nurple in your bitch tits
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| They wonderin' why my shit is so dirty, it’s probably 'cause I ain’t been
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| fuckin' with soap
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| Call me the master of puppets the way that I’m pullin' these strings and I’m
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| pluckin' the note
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| Bully a spot with a couple of blokes and a couple of things that I tucked in my
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| coat
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| Nobody fuckin' with me I’ve been throwin' these elbows 'cause all of my
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| knuckles are broke
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| Yo, this is blunt force trauma, bet you find it tough to manage
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| Wake up with your head wrapped up in a bloody bandage
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| On a stretcher out, they try to treat the fuckin' damage
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| This is what’ll happen when you eat a knuckle sandwich
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| This is blunt force trauma, bet you find it tough to manage
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| Wake up with your head wrapped up in a bloody bandage
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| On a stretcher out, they try to treat the fuckin' damage
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| This is what’ll happen when you eat a knuckle sandwich
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| Yo, yo!
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| Slug a snail snot trail, murder male, not pale
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| Body drop, cop failed, molotov cocktail
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| Kills, I never believe in the death and decievin'
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| Eve eatin' the apple in The Garden of Eden
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| Klonopin meth, they speedin' and tweakin'
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| I’m makin' a killin', it’s murderer season
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| With Jessica Lang and I’m beatin' my chest
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| Be like Idi Amin 'cause I’m eatin' their flesh
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| No rules though, let’s go back to old school flow
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| Original Hannibal Lecter, Manhunter
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| In my past life I smacked the apostles and crashed The Last Supper
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| Man suffer, so damn gutter
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| I was great before my great granddaddy’s dick spit out my grandmother
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| Like a torpedo, b-hop Tito, they can’t stop the reign Peybo
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| I’m in my prime (PRhyme), Royce/Preemo
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| And I’m self-made, look at no Dre, Vietnam that any foe pray
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| Go to combat, Reggie Ossé, go beyond rap, heavy no pay
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| And I drive drunk, crash whips, girls grab your tits
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| Rope-a-dope the Pope 'til he choke on a bag of dicks
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| Flip the parked car, John Carpenter Dark Star
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| At the Shark Bar or in Vancouver with Nardwar
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| It’s nevertheless, they said it the best
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| Rebel in the street, they better protest
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| Get 'em a dress or devil possessed
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| The end of the rest, ahead of the rest
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| Classic rhyme damage the mind, like the passage of time
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| Snap a spine, Lord master divine
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| Yo, this is blunt force trauma, bet you find it tough to manage
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| Wake up with your head wrapped up in a bloody bandage
|
| On a stretcher out, they try to treat the fuckin' damage
|
| This is what’ll happen when you eat a knuckle sandwich
|
| This is blunt force trauma, bet you find it tough to manage
|
| Wake up with your head wrapped up in a bloody bandage
|
| On a stretcher out, they try to treat the fuckin' damage
|
| This is what’ll happen when you eat a knuckle sandwich
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| «We can go toe-to-toe!»
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| «Like boxing, stick and move!»
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| «With a right-left, right-left — you’re toothless!»
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| «Taste like a knuckle sandwich…»
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| «When I punch you in the head, the shit’ll dent up your dome!»
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| «What are you askin' for mercy? |
| I’m laughin'!»
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| «I'mma send ya home with ya motherfuckin' teeth missin'…»
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| «So step the fuck off, before I punch you in your face!» |