| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| If you don’t move the crowd and ain’t a master of the ceremony
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| Or a microphone controller you are not an emcee
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| So don’t ever disrespect the homie
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| World class title holder born and raised in MD
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| Known to get the party poppin quicker
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| Then stripper with vodka in her so they gonna clap for me
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| But I ain’t talkin' booty cheeks
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| Slick with the dudy speak, shit talk mastery
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| …I'm Mugen with a blue pen
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| Samurai Champloo be damned if I can lose
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| If I did, I put 2 L’s together and make a W
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| Dumb of you, comparing Substantial to a substitute
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| All I do is win but it’s clearly ain’t your thing
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| Then again you’re more T-Pain then painting
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| I’m art personified, all heart magnified
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| By ‘bout a 105, no doubt… come alive
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| Fuck off the stage bum
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| You ain’t doin shit no need to tell’em to save some
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| Crowd look well rested, had time to get adjusted
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| Copped food and drinks and had time to digest it
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| I’ma make’em feel like they were part of my live show
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| No voice, clothes moist it’s hotter than Cairo
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| Watch me blow the spot when I drop my payload
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| I got’em going wild, it ain’t raining no pesos
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| They do what I say so ‘cause my presence demands it
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| A veteran standard, man what’s better than Stan shit
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| I will sever they hand if they extend it to grab this
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| Shit on everything like I’ve never been pampered
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| Son’em like Frederick Sandford, been a G
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| But I don’t sale trash just so I can make a living, B
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| I’m art personified, all heart magnified
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| By ‘bout a 105, no doubt… come alive
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| I be ripping up the stage like I’m tearing up floor boards
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| You don’t keep’em engage they just lay on the floor bored
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| I have’em in a craze they gon' leave with their core sore
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| Body crowds for days like a terrorist warlord
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| Light up the scoreboard, go hard as mug…
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| I’m a titan I throw swords, throat armed with a scud
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| If you mic’em he’s so raw but doper when unplugged
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| A sight sicker than cold sores, go for a dub
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| If you pay at the door, unless you pay in advance
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| This ain’t your regular show that’s right you even can dance
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| No need to hold up the wall, it got plenty of beams
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| You can throw up your arms and if you’re feeling it scream
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| 2 turntables and a mic that’s what I call riot gear
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| Turn all the way up! |
| It’s about to get live in here
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| I’m art personified, all heart magnified
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| By ‘bout a 105, no doubt… come alive
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master
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| Follow the Master |