| Let’s get live in this motherfucker
|
| If we gonna rhyme on a track, come through
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| Sweat
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| Dive in the cypher, no vets
|
| Live on the set to the back of the blue room
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| Direct to your tape decks duke, with next tunes
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| That have your neck bruised from the wreck
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| I catch it
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| Never let your bankroll stretch it
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| Son i’m matching bets, the raps get deaded
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| Beheaded
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| Thick and fed chickenhead undead redheaded stud said
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| Get me a cup wench quick with stuff in it
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| Must have been another tough breakfast, no bread, no spinach
|
| Oh yeah, let’s wreck it, what you told me?
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| To eat?
|
| No energy leads to weak shows
|
| He’s a solider, keep a dome full of bright concepts
|
| In real life, wouldn’t even know to get a bite when i’m hungry
|
| Hold up, ho, hug me, deep in the snow, im slow, deep in the hole i
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| Dug me
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| See to write brilliant is so tragic
|
| Really its a nightmare, type of rare magic
|
| Right there, thats it, how i gotta stab it in the lab with the comrades
|
| Hype
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| What a life, yeah
|
| I do it like half dead stone age wooly mammoth
|
| Misunderstand he a cold bully no heart hammer within
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| No you can’t hear it beat my ribs, my feet, the tims
|
| The only pulse i need’s the track
|
| Let me just fast for another week, suck it up, run with me
|
| Rum whiskey and wanna be great, windup with jay’s kidney
|
| But i need to live to flip the same gift, see if anyone can last
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| And conquer music then i can cause i’ve got that constitution
|
| And need a breakthrough jam, can do, scribble something new
|
| Through a couple slugs of pickle juice
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| I’ll sleep when the street gets the sweet new edition
|
| Now hunker down, beat hunger malnutrition weak
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| With the crew we can cook it up, just like the clique to come through
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| And have a bad day looking up |