| Rasul Allah master supreme, catastrophy’s theme
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| Traded my laughter for dreams, last to be seen
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| On magazines the footage on your TV-screen
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| I rather get paid and spit sixteen
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| Even with a telescope ya couldn’t see me split this cream
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| Hit this scheme, watch me tongue-kiss this dream
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| No mean that’s word on my cousine Shireen
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| Ain’t move of ya’l can touch or fuck with this team!
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| Hey yo welcome to the SQUARE MC’s better beware
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| Grab a microphone, run for cover & stand clear
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| Fuck an introduction got no time for fanfare
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| To get to me, you’ve got to go through my man here
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| Lyrics like sharp spears cut the listener’s ears
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| Leavin' you dumb with no eardrum beggin' to hear
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| Man of the year 'GIANNI' your label should’ve signed me
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| Untill then I keep building living devinely!
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| Can’t mess with the gods, Baby
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| To all you pretty MC’s
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| Can’t get with these (twice)
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| The fact is you can’t sack these black quaterbacks
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| We’re strapped like some cats with love for Arafat
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| New Jacks need to practice they plan to attack
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| We influence the masses it shows in their acts
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| Exposing they’re wack, take their cloth off their back
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| While I’m posing for ad’s Iman’s composing the tracks
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| Like that and Eddi’s throwing on the wax
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| So many hoes at shows front-rows be packed
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| And perhaps curiosity kills that cat
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| Mad rappers get jacked plus x-ed on their backs
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| Infinite stacks, cut like pieces of crack
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| Beats that you lack all you MC’s get smacked
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| We use turntables while you spit off dat
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| It’s like Mugsy Bogues, against Big Shaq
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| See it ain’t where I’m from it’s where I’m busting my caps
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| And if you don’t know where to put it just fill in the gaps
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| Chorus: Repeat
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| Watch me run with your queen through the garden of eden
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| Teach her the Science of how to father my semen
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| Party with demons, liquor and a jar full of reefer
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| Show off my heater before putting size between her
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| Lie I need her might even buy her sneaker’s
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| Untill the trick starts to flip and jeoperdize my freedom
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| That’s when I passed her number to Johnny McEnroe 'cause he sure knows how to
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| mack a ho
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| If life’s a bitch then I’m goin' to fuck it 'till I die
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| Have her laying on her stomach while she’s reaching for the sky
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| Hitting it so hard leaving marks on her thighs I do my work in the dark before
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| the sunrise
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| Look in my eyes, do I look like a nigga that lies?
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| On some shit that most brothers can only fantasize
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| Singing on your dingaling it happens worldwide
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| Disrespect yourself and damage your girl’s pride
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| Chorus: Repeat |