| Touched insane deranged and such
|
| But my mind still thinks in the clutch
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| You run up you get, touched
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| Molested marauded messed with
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| I’m charged with electric current
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| And burn’em so don’t, touch
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| Gimme room to bloom or boom impending doom
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| Thoughts consume man I got that
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| Touched panache pizzaz
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| A feel for the real
|
| Skill and lots of that
|
| So I just build now
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| While you throwin’punchlines
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| I’m bustin’hot ones with rhymes (blow!)
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| Acupuncture smackin’damn nerds like heroine
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| Swimmin’with sharks I’m off the (Fairline?) Islands
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| They sense blood in they gills but a nigga will survive man
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| Automatic darts hypnotic talk
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| Alive and aware come prepared to collide you’se a dead man walkin'
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| And I’m the executioner connivin’like Lex Luthor
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| What they shootin’for?
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| Man, I make these corny rappers respire
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| Break’em for their dapper atire
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| Then throw that ass in the fire
|
| And ain’t no use in askin’me why
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| FUCK YOU! |
| that’s my reply
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| Step back from the mike
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| Or I’m snatchin’your lives, right
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| Niggas be actin’like
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| They be rappin’tight, but they lost
|
| Like in the black of night
|
| Soon to be my sacrifice
|
| Better be wary of the legendary
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| Cuz your spot at the cemetery isn’t temporary
|
| Have you shook up like kids who mention Carrie
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| Or Bloody Mary if you rappin’near me Positively somethin’gon’happen really
|
| I ain’t got no back up in me
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| I stay managed
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| Wether you chill or pack a semi
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| You can’t manage
|
| We gargantuan killa tarantulas
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| Touch the inchangeable, Viagra flow, raw
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| Stronger then Niagra Falls
|
| Max Julien backhand MCs and grab my balls
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| Hit’em with the black squad and crack your jaw
|
| Now I’m a chastise you rap guys
|
| With wack lies
|
| Soundin’like you doin’smack lines
|
| Claimin’it’s your last time
|
| We start a riot like Jamaicans over gas prices
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| That’s why the mass like us We them grass lighters
|
| Niggas think I got punched by Rudduck
|
| In the stomach the way I bust from the gut &get
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| G’s by the hundred but
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| That don’t matter (fool)
|
| Cause niggas get millions
|
| For shit I ain’t feelin'
|
| And that’s why I’m building
|
| Yeah
|
| Absolutely, I be rappin’smoothly
|
| If she actin’too keyed
|
| I’m a snatch a groupie
|
| Roll a phattie and have niggas sayin’that’s a doozy (Daaam boy!)
|
| And bring it to niggas who front like it’s a action movie
|
| Futuristic like Appleseed
|
| Musical masterpiece
|
| Freeze rappers like a tractor beam
|
| Yeah, major league data swing
|
| On the track queen rap sting
|
| Who blasting
|
| We pure to the last gene
|
| Weapon testin’with my 308 special
|
| Runnin’up in your residences
|
| Runnin’busters for their presidentials
|
| In my sights I won’t miss you
|
| Once you gone I won’t miss you
|
| Livest nigga be a dead issue
|
| Your flesh is just tissue for my talented talents to rip through
|
| Physical enslaved to my imbalanced mental
|
| My confidence is not confidential
|
| So show deference for my skills diferential
|
| Yeah I suffocate featherweight MC’s never resucitate
|
| Decimated easily as my voice fluctuated sentence structure
|
| This critical juncture for you youngstas
|
| Laser sharp hack ya, cut ya, acupuncture
|
| Play my clutch Midas touch press the gas and light the dutch up My candy gloss touch ya Eurethane is such a Blood rushin’display of luxury and immerse ya Submerge ya beyond the verge of word perfection
|
| Yo these niggas out a pocket I cold
|
| Cock’em and cock at their nose
|
| Stopping their comment just for haulin’that garbage
|
| My flow, shockin’and suckers with no Stoppin’a racket
|
| If you fi’n to talk about it Be about it or get rowdy
|
| I spit that
|
| Liquid detergent
|
| Game like George Gervin
|
| Ice water
|
| Under pressure operate like Julius Erving
|
| The surgeon, hovercraft percusion
|
| With spontaneous combustion
|
| highly flammable magma through the mouth
|
| I am Touched, unsane, deranged and such
|
| But my mind still clicks in the clutch
|
| You run up you get, touched
|
| Molested marauded messed with
|
| I’m charged with electric current
|
| And burn 'em so don’t, touch
|
| Gimme room to bloom or boom impending doom
|
| Thoughts consume man I got that
|
| Touch, a feel for the real panache, pizzaz
|
| Skill and lots of that
|
| So I just build now
|
| Get touched
|
| I’m a touch you
|
| For real
|
| Think I’m playin'
|
| All these fingers
|
| 'll Fuck you up That’s real |