| (first 0:52 -- small club, Liks performing live
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| next 0:20 -- sounds of clinking ice cubes, drinks being poured)
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| Voodoo — Alright, we’re back on WLIX this is Voodoo and uh E-Swift — Aiyyo, they came down, you know
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| I know y’all get asses all the time
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| But do me this favor
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| I want y’all to bust the freestyles for us I wanna know who’s first up, you freestyle?
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| Tash — Yo yo, we got Crackerjack from the Loot Pack
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| about to se this shit off, ay Crackerjack
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| Set it off. |
| I know we on the radio, yo Crackerjack
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| set it off
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| Verse One: Crackerjack
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| Ya dumb dunce it goes once upon the rhyme, Jack is out
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| to clench a fist and drop flows that gets papes like The Abyss
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| All in this, freestyle’s wild when I’m throwin this
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| Non-bogus brothers shake the hip and toe and just
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| Get involved, roll with the sould, make the head nod
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| Look at the bash slash back I kick the abstract
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| Make brothers say «Damn, that rap’s fat,"recline that ass back
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| A smack-back and slap from Wild Child with the ramshack
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| I used to pick up the damn slack bed on the r&s back
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| in the days, when Eric, was in the, honey phase
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| Nowadays, turn in applications
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| Rockin the Appalachians with the ladies with the sexy activations
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| on the Blackwatch, I own a black watch, although I’m Blackwatch
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| You want to, confront who? |
| A microphone check one two
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| Complicated for ya I got the naps that break the pics
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| Plus the props from the Liks
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| Ha haa, Loot Pack’s on the rise
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| Sayin, «Liks liks liks boy, run your backside»
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| Yo, J-Ro, Mad Lib, my man
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| Just, get on the mic and please arise the jam
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| Verse Two: Mad Lib, J-RO
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| I bust the animated suspension, vocabulary wack MC prevention
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| My division is itchin for the switch
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| Pitchin upon the West coast, the best brad and boast
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| Bragadocious, ferocious emotional osmosis
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| I skip like a stone when I lake over a break
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| I rip microphones and I take over the fake creWWWs
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| I wish I could sing like Smokey do But I’m vocally locin with the Loot Pack crew
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| I’m Mad Lib, the bad kid, brothers try to do wht I did
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| Back in junior high, cause I’m fly with my Vocabulary tradition, total chaos rhythmatic
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| static, in fact they case erase so stay off
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| Cause nobody knows how it goes with the flows
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| and rows of hoes froze, chosen bust erosion on the lows when
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| The ill speak, plus the Liks knot thick
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| Mad quick to rock ya lip, like hip-hop to grits
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| But yo freak this, I come with uniqueness
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| I’m like Pepe LePew yo, hoes are my weakness
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| Back in high school you didn’t think I could get nifty
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| Now I’m on your magazine rack down at Thrifty
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| Since eighty-three I been housin folks
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| All the way from Orange Country out to Thousand Oaks
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| It ain’t a, nother rapper in the country who can crunch me If you don’t believe me, run up and try to punch me I flip the funk like Monk, Higgins when I’m diggin
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| I’m swiggin on a Snapple cause my crew be wicked when we gig it I rock the mad vocab, when my toe jabs I’m so bad
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| I make you flow bad, like when I blow lads to pieces
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| Verse Three: Tash
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| No releases on the two steel wheels
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| Comes the lyrical skills that kills more ducks than oils spills
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| My niggaz run for the hills, I can track em through the mountains
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| Rico kick that kind of shit that got more bounce than Roger Troutman
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| So passs the weed to the top top seed
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| With lyrics as deadly as the VD’s that make ya lungs bleed
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| Plus I dig like coal miners through the crates of old timers
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| I be blowin up the spot like dynamite with one-liners
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| Oh reminde, r to my ex-bitch when I find ya
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| I’ma smack you for them times I had to start sixty-nine
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| Yes on the low, my nigga with the hat to the back
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| Get on the mic and show these niggaz where you at Verse Four: Wild Child
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| Here I am doing shows, wall to wall
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| Nate stacks tall I still won’t fall
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| Never will I be sellout poverty, some don’t believe in me Still I get my verbs on, my verse on, I raps long
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| You’re dead wrong, all in all should say the sale starts
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| when A&R says go, you start with the dope verse
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| and you’re sold, now you’re on clearance when the record starts sellin
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| But I’m not willin, to be uncovered from the depths of the under |
| I’m under, for the duration
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| The past present future revelation
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| I gain the trunks of those who comprehend
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| Because the know I send niggaz through the other end
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| Of this industry, commercial side envies me Females are freakin me, no time for em At least not yet, just a few that I will call bitch
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| I’m not a player, strict rhyme sayer, say your prayers
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| Now I lay me down to sleep
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| Don’t sleep, I’m on the creep
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| To invade the holes of the ill-minded
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| I find it’s fat, rewind it back slack, not here boy
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| Wack to the skull-crack when I attack
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| Unleasing crazy chaos you’re way off, so stay off
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| I’m about to blast off
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| Outro:
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| J-Ro — Word is bond! |
| On this snoop babe, that’s how we do it
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| (YouknowhatI'msayin?) And that’s how we do it, on KLI, K What is this? |
| KLIX? |
| Oh yeah
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| Where we at again?
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| Ah it don’t matter, we rock it for the whole world anyway
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| Tash — Yo we gotta give a shout out, a shout out
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| J-Ro — Can we give a shout out?
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| E-Swift — I’d like to give a shout out to everybody that’s listening
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| to this radio station right now, I hope you got your tapes
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| on record cause you know we just flippin
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| J-Ro — Everybody that’s down with real hip-hop
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| West coast East coast North and South |