| Yeah, Pigeon Hole, Evil
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| Yeah, Mr. Marmalade, let’s roll man
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| What’s the game plan new jack? |
| You still lookin back
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| For the same two cats that’s runnin laps around your grade school raps
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| And what’s the matter dude? |
| You mad because we’re not havin none of it
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| When your weak ass wouldn’t even last a minute up in Dun-a-wich
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| Your whole platoon can’t compete with the cap of two for loops
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| A rapper crew, who apt to do, whatever the fuck we want to do
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| Cop the new LP cause this here’s the preview
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| And you ain’t seen nothin yet so y’all can save it for the review
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| Yeah, you must be trippin thinkin you could ever Pigeon Hole me
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| Push me to a corner and I’d turnin into a flippin zombie
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| Walkin dead, chopped off head, droppin red buckets of blood
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| And guts comin out on the town dressed up in a tux
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| Evil, not street legal, I speak regal
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| Sweatshop wants to introduce me as the fifth Beatle
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| My lingo’s lethal, I smoke diesel
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| Get the fuck out of my face before I turn evil
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| Ah-hah, like I already was and I’m already buzzin
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| Like the electric eel 600 volts got you jumpin huh?
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| Bzzzt~! |
| Out the window, your style’s so simple
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| I’m magnificent, bring in the crescendo
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| Marmalade and Mellow play the keys and the cello
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| I’m at your door with the mask and bag like «Hello!»
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| Get to know us, put the whole crew on our shoulders
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| How we roll is, won’t stop 'til we get what they owe us
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| So give your soul up or we blow up, BOOM!
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| It’s Evil, Ebeneezer, and the Sweatshop doom
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| It makes me happy just to shit on rappers' dreams, watch
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| Steam and watch the Grimace like «What is this?» |
| This is me, knahmean
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| The sucker fiends could only take so much
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| So why’d I have to lean into them, and play so rough?
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| I don’t know, I’m sorry, I 'spose it’s for the glory
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| Of bein able to say that I shit on rappers who bore me and
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| You lose when I snooze so please don’t make do it and
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| Squat upon your noggins and go doo-doo to prove it |