| Live from the middle of the ghetto and the street
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| Where they cook cocaine, keep the metal and the heat
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| Pop that thing the federal police
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| Yea that’s what it is, yea that’s what it be
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| Raw as it get’s with the awesome-est spit
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| Ya’ll call it quit still fall in the pit
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| It’s ya boy Stik and I rock it again
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| While I hold time back and I’m stopping the wind
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| Ah, is it him? |
| He still got it hemmed
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| He do what he do while y’all following trends
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| I say what I say like the mic is my kin
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| And I’m reaching in deep for the music within
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| Junt give you chills and it crawl in ya skin
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| I’m raw as it get’s, I thought I’d repeat, y’all obsolete
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| Stik get it crunk and then knock out ya teeth on the hardest of beats
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| T-O-P, Memphis, Tennessee, Little Rock is with me when I sovereignly speak
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| Got it all in my reach, so if ya’ll want the beef, well the reach for your
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| piece, piece! |
| peace?
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| Sensitive imminent images bending 'em back
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| I’m sending them cats where they belong, you heard my song before
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| Ready to spit it and murder war, MC’s ain’t nothing but herbivores,
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| kicking that shit that I heard before
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| Unlimited vision to get what I’m getting
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| I stay on my pimping and hurt these foes |