| Sen kalk, bir minik mikrofonunu getir
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| Bak jak burada diktafonuna tak
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| Kağıt kalem bir de ilham alınacak
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| Tam gaz choppers, havada düşman avına çıkalım
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| Akalım, haydi bu battle’ı kazanalım
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| [English translation:
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| «Get up, get your microphone
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| Look, here is the jack, connect your mic
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| And here is the paper and the pen, we’re gonna get inspired
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| No stop Choppers are in the air, let’s hunt enemies
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| Let’s go, let’s win this battle"]
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| We started in the Midwest
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| Now we 'bout to take it
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| All over the world, baby!
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| This is the pinnacle!
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| Yeah, Tech N9ne!
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| Follow me, all around the planet, I run the gamut on Sickology
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| They could never manage, we do damage with no apology
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| Pick 'em off the panic, got a little manic 'cause I gotta be
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| Frantic, I’mma jam it 'cause I’m an oddity
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| Gobble the track up like I’m grubbin' at Mama Nakas
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| I could pop at you, proper, 'cause I’m partners with Waka Flocka
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| Gimme the top of hip-hop and watch 'em make 'em rock
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| With a show-stopper, chakras poppin' off the (Worldwide Choppers)
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| If you anybody, you notice it
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| Tech is the pinnacle, not an identical soul as it
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| Loaded cold as the polar get, wrote it quick and they «ed it
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| Yo, when exploded, the flow behold it, 'cause when that motor spit
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| A-bi-de-a, bi-de-a, never to get free of the real
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| Better ya just kneel to me or ready to get near my heels
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| Gimme the knock and I’mma chop it, he came and he went tomorrow
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| But I’mma lock it down and hop in the pocket like empanadas
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| Hit 'em up and get 'em up, I ain’t done, I ain’t did enough
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| Trippin' when I rip it up, I be the X when I split 'em up
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| Sorta like I was liquored up and backin' up in the gut
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| Everybody be knowin' I be actin' up when I buzz
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| From Missouri to Canada, I be keepin' the stamina
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| If you never been a fan of the man, the planet’s unanimous
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| Can I cuss, fuck anybody, Tech is calamitous
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| Leave 'em in the dust, ain’t nobody tough when I’m standin' up
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| Tech is hostile, he’s awful
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| He really be wicked when he be off in the bottle
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| You with it, you dig it, you never lost the apostle
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| He’s thinkin' he give it to Poe and toss to Picasso
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| Killin' everybody off is the motto
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| And I be the only chopper that’s tossed in the brothel
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| You said it’s pathetic, my head is off in the taco
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| I sped and you bled and you in the coffin when I go
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| I’m light years
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| Ahead of my peers
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| Want some, you can come bring it right here
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| Can’t clown me
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| Don’t come 'round me
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| Bow down, I was crowned when they found me
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| Check it, I’m ahead of 'em, chop it up with the veteran
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| A legend developin', they gotta tell 'em it’s evident
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| Gotta notice an elephant, none of you niggas relevant
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| You delicate, I’m lovin' every second of this
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| Denmark
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| De vil alle tjekke når vi ligger det
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| Kommer ind og smækker det beatet jeg vækker det
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| I ved hvad der kommer ud af min mund
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| Hanger med de vildeste gutter
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| Det minder mig om vi stikker det af
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| For de kalder mig alle vild worldwide chopper
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| [English translation:
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| «They will all check it when we lay it
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| Coming in and smashing it beatet I’m waking it
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| You know whats coming out of my mouth
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| Hanging with the coolest guys
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| It reminds me we stepping it
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| Set on fire
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| 'Cause they all call me wild worldwide chopper"]
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| Alabama
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| What if I ran into you with a Pogo stick?
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| Hopped up on top of you rappers like a Jehovah’s Witness?
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| With a photo of Jesus and a paper pamphlet
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| And I threw up more churches like I was playin' Hamlet?
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| Syllable burnin', that internal damage
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| Swing, batter, batter, but then I lay back on a hammock
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| Under an oak tree, like I was peelin' pecans
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| But instead, I’m peelin' rappers' heads, makin' a sand-a-wich
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| Pick up a .22 and put a bullet inside of a
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| Motherfucker from inside a 1987 box
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| I’m headed up, yeah, headed for bucks
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| Fuck 'em all, make 'em feel my dread like I had a head of locks
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| Feel every bump like you had dead shocks,
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| But I hopped on the fuckin' beat and I worldwide chopped
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| Wanna fuck with Tech N9ne, twist up the pine
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| And smoke a beat with Mr. Busta Rhymes, well, sure, why not?
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| Really don’t need to show any more of my cock
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| But I run across the stadium in a pair of your socks |
| In a trench coat with the pencil and a watch
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| Then drop a verse before you can focus to read the clocks
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| Slumerican is out of control
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| Heat it up, beat it up, then I gotta go
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| But I’m a dump truck, just send another load
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| Peter Piper dump a pile of peppers in your throat
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| With an alien probe
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| I’m light years
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| Ahead of my peers
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| Want some, you can come bring it right here
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| Can’t clown me
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| Don’t come 'round me
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| Bow down, I was crowned when they found me
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| Twista!
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| Chicago
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| Like I gotta focus up in my rhythm
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| Or loosen the venom and hit 'em and give 'em astig-a-ma-tism
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| And then I’mma spit 'em somethin' so full of vengeance
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| That everybody’ll wanna devour the pieces of my enemies 'cause of cannibalism
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| Breakin' 'em off into particles, they get in a predicament
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| That be never reversible 'cause a nigga be too versatile
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| Makin' you nervous, you could never compete with the colonel
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| I burn you, I’m an immortal, and that’s the reason I murder you
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| Focus on my hocus pocus and make a likkle magic
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| After I wreck and check ya, then your respect I better have
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| 'Cause I’m an anomaly, able to give a lobotomy
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| To any motherfucker challengin' my astronomy
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| Hoppin' I don’t stop what that follows when the flame’s thrown
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| I’m one of the most popular choppers and my name’s known
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| Throwin' it up in the air, takin' it there
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| We WWC, if you can’t keep up, shoulda stayed home
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| My alien knowledge be makin' other astronomers'
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| Work look as ancient as a discovery of paleontology
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| So play me and I’mma be shinin' on them haters
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| I’m finna be usin' it as energy, watch how radiant I’mma be
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| Like a helicopter when the words fly
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| Entire families all the way out to you girl die
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| If I catch you fuckin' with the most intricate lyricists
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| Don’t even try to stop us 'cause we choppers and we worldwide
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| And I’m—
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| I’m light years
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| Ahead of my peers
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| Want some, you can come bring it right here
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| Can’t clown me
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| Don’t come 'round me
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| Bow down, I was crowned when they found me
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| New York
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| See, now they ask when I’mma stop it, my dude
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| And when I’mma cock it and pop it and when I’mma drop it, my dude
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| Inevitably, it’s that I’mma be the most incredible dude
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| To ever spit on the record and put it together, my dude
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| And then they ask «What in the world is you provin'?
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| When you were already the best? |
| And what the hell is he doin'?»
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| Well, I’mma be choppin' and cuttin' and breakin' and beatin' and shakin'
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| And fuckin' everything up 'til I make no further mistake
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| And bustin' everything up like a fuckin' angry Jamaican
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| And shuttin' everything up, especially the ones who be hatin'
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| They lovin' everything until I got 'em stutterin' stupid
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| You hear 'em now? |
| «D-d-d-d-don't do-do-do-do it!
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| P-P-P-Please? |
| Wh-wh-wh-why you gotta t-try us?
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| W-w-w-w-we already know that you be the nicest!»
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| And now I’mma come and kill 'em, get 'em, hit 'em, and finish 'em
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| And bang 'em in the head and diminish 'em, and then I’ll
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| Hit 'em again at a minimum, creepin' comin' to kill 'em
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| Then he be gotta be drillin' 'em, thinkin' «They gotta be feelin' 'em!»
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| Spittin' lithium, see the way a nigga be spillin' 'em?
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| And gettin' 'em stupid to the point where there’s no forgivin' 'em?
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| Hopin' you’re listenin' and you’re payin' attention
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| And you’re witnessin' the way that I be crushin' on the mic
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| And gettin' in the zone, I be flattenin' and packin' in
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| People from the front to the back and
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| They got me actin' a fool, I’m blackin', nigga
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| Now I’m home!
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| I’m light years
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| Ahead of my peers
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| Want some, you can come bring it right here
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| Can’t clown me
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| Don’t come 'round me
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| Bow down, I was crowned when they found me
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| Kansas City
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| Like fire annihilate me father retire instantly
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| I’m choppin' 'em, call me Michael Myers in my vicinity
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| The way I be killin' 'em with rhythm, it get illegitimate
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| The Gilla will finish any in a predicament
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| And the enemies in the vicinity, I gotta mack up
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| They know they never can get with me whenever they mention me
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| The history of a lyrical criminal, more deadly than chemicals
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| Check my resume, they said the Gillgod’s biblical
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| California
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| I hit 'em with venom and get up in 'em |
| I bend 'em and send 'em and you can feel me
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| Diggin' up in your brain and bringin' the pain, and y’all fin' wanna kill me
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| Fillin' 'em with that fury, get up and hurry, you can feel the real me
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| Comin' in with that shit, I’m havin' a fit, and you will never peel me
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| Off of you when I’m on top of you, I got the drop on you
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| You been poppin' off, I’mma hit 'em up with a bullet to the (Brain!)
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| You can look into the eyes of a heathen, breathin', you’re fiendin'
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| And dreamin' to find a demon name Insane, I’m a worldwide chopper |