| Begin
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| Demystify the mummy within
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| If you ain’t hotep then ho step, I’ll step to your friend
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| Parable of the wind
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| Blew black through to the end
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| Endless night, kicks and fights against time and her friends
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| Slowly day and night blend
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| Twilight takes form and then
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| Open sky sprouts an eye: solo, singular, sin
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| Downward glance, upward grin
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| Half the women are men
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| Children born of the morn grow until daylight’s end
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| Children born of the wind
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| Take the night as their friend
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| Starlit sky, many-eyed wonder of the within
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| Fear: original sin
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| Death: nowhere near the end
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| Once upon break o’dawn’s early Lyte: Paper Thin
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| Now where my hoes and my pimps at?
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| I dosie-do heel-toe 'fore I lean back
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| And all my children who run 'way
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| And beware of the lyrical gunplay
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| The corner coroner
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| I smoke for weeks
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| Dead Pan, like dead man, through chimney peaks
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| I streak the skyline
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| I blew through bird
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| High notes. |
| I space float. |
| I’m lost for words
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| The storefront preacher
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| The Sunday best
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| The dangling cross between legs, on chest
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| The country farmer
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| The hoedown champ
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| The rhythmic armor. |
| The cosmic dance
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| The buck and gully
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| The native son
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| Bigger and Deffer. |
| The freshest one
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| The sewed-in creases
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| The flavored twills
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| The confidence snorted through dollar bills
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| The «Fuck I care for?»
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| The boldface lie
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| The been there and done that. |
| The do or die
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| The dirty dirty
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| The filthy clean
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| Thugged out and nerdy. |
| No in between
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| Now where my hoes and my pimps at?
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| I dosie-do heel-toe 'fore I lean back
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| And all my children who run 'way
|
| And beware of the lyrical gunplay
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| The blackest berry
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| The sweetest juice
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| That complex NGH born of simple truth
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| The solar/polar
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| The chosen side
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| The black face mammy of the bluest eye
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| The battered woman
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| The dream deferred
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| Now caught up and paid in full, that’s my word
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| The jungle brother
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| The sly and stone
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| Rock hard, NGH. |
| Give a dog a bone
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| The marrow’s marrow
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| The newest breed
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| The headline merger between word and deed
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| The search for balance
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| A quest for peace
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| A tribe called NGH. |
| NGH WHT, the chief
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| The distant lover
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| The close-up clown
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| The iced-out grill with the screw-face frown
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| A wealth of violence
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| A violent wealth
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| You caught up, NGH, better watch your health
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| Now where my hoes and my pimps at?
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| I dosie-do heel-toe 'fore I lean back
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| And all my children who run 'way
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| And beware of the lyrical gunplay
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| The beat is dope though
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| The junkie nod
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| The use of breakbeats to beat the odds
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| The odds are even
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| I paper rocks
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| Rocks smash scissors. |
| NGHs trigger Glocks
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| The blackend target
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| The dick-long chain
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| NGHs kill NGHs in Jesus' name |