| From now on this thing is ours
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| Got 'em paintin war instead of paintin flowers
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| They shower they heroes with praises, while we hangin ours
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| We bring the drums to the battle cause we bang the loudest
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| You don’t know a thing about it, if you mixing King or Malcolm
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| Bet you that Kweli the outcome
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| Album’s so hot, that my ghetto chicks is bringin talcum
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| Whether you sing or shout it
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| They gave somebody else the crown but I’m the King without it
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| Your Queen is ridin with me, she’s always slidin with me
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| You can’t stop me like the bullets that’s inside of 50
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| They try to diss me but whenever I say «bye», they miss me
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| You walkin with me or you alien like Mork & Mindy
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| You talkin with me if they often envy
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| Take it off the table and the Devil run a label
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| 'Cause the Lord is with me
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| Arrogance bring the fall of many
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| My name echo like the hall is empty
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| You don’t wanna a war against me
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| Hey, if this the cut, I’m the surgeon
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| Assassinate your character, cast aspersions
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| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one)
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| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one)
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| Hey, I know it hurts son
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| But you against me, a .50 Cal verse a squirt gun
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| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one
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| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one
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| Why? |
| You and your man some palookas, you scared of my medulla
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| You see beyond the shadow of a doubt, I’m born ready, steady as the hand of the
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| shooter
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| In the flesh, yes, the embodiment of man verse computer
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| I make all the women abandon they suitors
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| Do the math, you see you can’t measure up to the ruler
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| Word, on behalf of all the fans and consumers
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| I’m buildin with Fred Hampton Jr., man we plannin a future
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| Not preachin, we do it different, we liftin the youth up
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| We spittin it too tough, too sick for these new thugs
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| Or goons, whatever they called, they softer than nubuck
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| Vampires in the club, sippin that «True Blood»
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| I’m a «Midnight Marauder» and a slaughter for the «Tribe»
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| Or mortal line, bustin at the cops like Mortal Kai
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| The sort of guy that mortify
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| These clown ass rappers since 45 live
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| And you know it man
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| Hey, if this the cut, I’m the surgeon
|
| Assassinate your character, cast aspersions
|
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one)
|
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one)
|
| Hey, I know it hurts son
|
| But you against me, a .50 Cal verse a squirt gun
|
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one
|
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one
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| Yo, Sean Price, mad nice, accept that
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| My worst verse sound like your best rap
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| Put on your bent plaque, I pay double on trips
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| I punch you, up in your face and double your lips
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| This be the dumbest shit I ever wrote
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| No 2Pac Shakur, just two shots, ya floored
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| Listen, the gun clapper, the dumb rapper, the young rapper
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| Dig in your pockets and leave with your funds faster
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| Fuckin new rap rookies
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| Get beat to death, New Jack Pookie
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| Face fucked with the H stuck in your grill
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| Play tough and get scrapped up in the 'ville
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| Afro-American minus the afro
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| Bald-headed American lettin the gat blow
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| Shut the fuck up before you get hurt son
|
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one
|
| Hey, if this the cut, I’m the surgeon
|
| Assassinate your character, cast aspersions
|
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one)
|
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one (worst one)
|
| Hey, I know it hurts son
|
| But you against me, a .50 Cal verse a squirt gun
|
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one
|
| You ain’t got a verse better than my worst one |