| You know what I’m sayin', Kamachi
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| Big Virt, Jus Allah
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, what’s the fucking deal?
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| The Snowgoons (Snowgoons)
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| Yeah, you know what I’m sayin', Kamachi
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| Big Virt (Yeah, yeah)
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| Jus Allah (Yeah, nigga)
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| Yo, at the door of the lord my death gospel sings
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| It’s what I serve the kings, I’m an angel with dirty wings
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| From Hell’s church, funeral bells work
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| Chief, Jus and Virt, we crush the earth
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| We love to kill like you love the dirt
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| Code red alert, the guns go berserk
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| Bring the sensimilla and meet me after work
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| I’ll write another verse and send another curse
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| Philly to Boston, Jersey to Germany
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| Walk the Autobahn with a bomb screaming, «Emergency»
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| High like the heavens cause that’s where I prefer to be
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| DJ Illegal, cut, start the surgery
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| It’s murder in the thirty-third degree
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| Juju Mob, Kamach you heard you of me
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| (And we the rawest muhfuckin' click in the felt)
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| (The real motherfuckers better recognize real)
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| (The real motherfuckers better recognize real, real, real, real, real)
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| Bring your whole squad we starve 'em, fuck it, who wants some?
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| Pawn 'em like the spectre of death we reppin' Boston
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| Smash y’all motherfuckers, you can’t touch us
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| The flow fill your ears 'till your skull and brain rupture
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| Pain slashin' cut you, get the cat of nine tails
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| Fills the rhyme grill, stab your heart with nine nails
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| You faggots spittin' fabrications, figments of imagination
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| You won’t get the picture until I flip and smash your face in
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| Throw you down a flight of stairs, stab you with a Viking spear
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| Your whole cipher’s scared cause they know the Titan’s here
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| The church clothes blood-stainin' 'em when I’m aiming them
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| Spittin' metal that’ll penetrate your cranium
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| Tried saving them, but fuck that, now I’m maimin' 'em
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| Mutilation shootin' for God and making moves for Satan
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| Next I’m breaking makin' his body abandon his spirit
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| Started swingin' on you motherfuckers like Manny Ramirez
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| (The real motherfuckers better recognize real, real, real)
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| Return your motherfucking soul before my next blunt gets rolled
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| I eat you motherfuckers whole before the blood gets cold
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| Truth be told, you talk like a two years old
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| Same shit you wanna hold like the purest of gold
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| When my rhyme begins everything that’s on your mind ends
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| Each line from divine’s like vitamins
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| Every message from Allah is like medicine
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| Every one of them could purify the Devil’s sins
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| Fuckin' fool, you probably flunked pre-school
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| We ain’t equals, I ain’t readable
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| You’re one step above your own mother feeding you
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| Unbelievable, dumb enough to be illegal
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| You couldn’t get this high without a fucking needle
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| And a fuckin' supply to fry three people
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| (Like M.O.P., nigga, I’ll mash you out)
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| (And we the rawest muhfuckin' click in the felt)
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| (The real motherfuckers better recognize real)
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| (You're fuckin' with the wrong clan and the wrong man)
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| (Real motherfuckers better recognize real, real, real, real)
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| (Real motherfuckers better recognize real, real, real, real, real) |