| It be that Queens kid with the face of Jim «The Anvil» Neidhart
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| I play the part, smoke the white shark
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| My mind sharp like a shape up from Dominican’s
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| There’s no confession, when I’m sinning fucking cinnamon women
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| Rocking double colour linen from the beginning
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| I see a lot of youth’s pretending, better watch who you be befriending
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| My shit’s profound, I shoot the pistol with the whistle sound
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| And catch the shell before it hit the ground
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| Then peel off just like the skin of the pepper
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| Or the jacket that I’m rocking, cause I’m twisted in leather
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| Don’t get it twisted, keep the biscuits hot, chickens and cheddar
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| Getting fly just like the shit with the feathers
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| You could be laying face down if you so choose
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| I leave you covered in the blanket, man, you old news
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| I’m from the place where kids’ll shank you for some cold shoes
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| Half out the pocket with the hanky on the boat cruise, it’s me |