| Gandolf… grand
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| Diesel Burt Reynolds in the Trans Am
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| Metaphor man of steel
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| Amateur jack of all trades gettin' secatoured
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| The return of Professor X to ya resumes
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| I’m reppin' OTTZ
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| My effigies lit' up on the screen like Apollo Creed
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| Polythene pack, body baggin
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| Toe tag rappers bring 'bout change through my policies
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| McSpazatron knucklehead
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| Tensed up while I’m bar spittin' like a dog snarlin'
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| I javelin this pigs ear to the page
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| Intellects properties I protect sprays scotch guard it
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| This is button man repertoire
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| Dunce hat flows I’m sick to the back teeth
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| I bring that break neck speed till ya spine snap
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| Now rewind that like I’m stoker blood on the leaves
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| Creepin' into the back of your mind
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| I white widow ya doors riddled with remorse
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| Seepin' into them cobbles of ya memory lanes
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| I 5 Michelin star riffin' that 3 course
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| Analogist, anthropologists
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| Stand and acknowledge it’s under the cap
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| Under the ground and out to the sun
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| The thunder and lightning I brung in abundance from the front to the cap
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| Analogist, anthropologists
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| Stand and acknowledge it’s under the cap
|
| Under the ground and out to the sun
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| The thunder and lightning I brung in abundance
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| Yo, Yo
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| Back to life, backed your own reality
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| Back to the lab, dissecting a Greys anatomy
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| Back to the grill again, back to the future island of Gilligan
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| Back to the true desires of sicker men
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| Grip the neck, squeeze till the head pops
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| Insects worship on bended knees to the Xbox
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| I worship the Sega god with the blue fur
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| My mother’s Lara Lor-Van, my father’s Lex Luther
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| The Daxamite in the Phantom Zone
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| I stand alone, mad selfies on the camera phone
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| Genuflect, all hail the Mr Kill
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| Chicks say I’m hard to swallow similar to a bitter pill
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| This is ill like Aids related pneumonia
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| You say you have the real but haters say it’s zirconia
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| I got the Superman cold crush diamond
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| Under no illusion, I’m a old fuck rhymin'
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| Got the pimped out zimmer frame turbo
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| You wanna know the time? |
| Get a bigger name journo
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| Word bro, my body’s in the South East
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| My heart is in the North West, Im' tryna be on South Beach
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| Never tryna be without heat
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| Even my neighbours say «Could you turn it up louder please»
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| Rock Zool on the Genesis
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| On the Pegasus, got tools for the nemesis
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| Zool on the Genesis
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| On the Pegasus, got tools for the nemesis
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| More action
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| I’m signallin' the UFO’s down for more landings |