| Hahaha
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| Yo, a comedian of your caliber should have an agent
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| Here’s my card, that’s my number, give me a call, I get you paid kid
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| I gave it all I had, it wanted more
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| Blew up the monitor before somebody had the nuts to feed the carnivore
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| They acting startled when the shit began to fray around the edges
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| They hit the resin and chased it with Benson & Hedges
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| But fuck a contract
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| Cause what you need is a contact buzz
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| To free the clutch and compress the TV’s fuzz
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| Let me outta the agreement
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| Put me in treatment
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| Cause the picture’s uneven
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| I got a fistful of grievance
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| Fuck the etcetera, the bullshit rhetoric, whatever, the vendettas
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| The false endeavors and heed the fucking weather
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| When I’m simple and plain I cripple the lame
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| When I adjust the thrust up a notch, I cast a layer of frost
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| Across your glossy eyed outlook
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| Never been out shook
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| By the flossy lies
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| Metamorphosize by your boastful pride
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| Greed is dead
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| Some need to bleed to get that through they head true
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| Seeks bread, won’t read unless they read to
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| And everything you do has meaning
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| So add some feeling
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| When the break hits, let’s all flip and grab the ceiling
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| I got a hunch I can crunch MCs within the flash of an eyelid
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| Snap your lumbar and then supply this
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| Injurous head blow, tryin' to defend against this is useless
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| Murder candle on their last birthday, my words break, so
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| Chill with the backtalk, if you slack you get caught
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| You oughta think about the thought of this:
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| The jaw-clashing in the midst I saw niggas rappin'
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| So I snuck up and hit the stuck up
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| You need to brush up, touch-touch the renegader
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| Many feel the ?? |
| when one drops the fader
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| Communicator, I got an Uzi made of paper
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| Tryin' to do me is major, lose me in Fanastasia
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| You’re artificially takin' part in the art
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| Tryin' to get with me, throwin' sparks from out your limousine
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| Continuing to bring the hype, ever-sleezy ya
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| I knock the teeth of ya, then you go and tell the media
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| Through the Yamaha monitor, we out of that deaf ??
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| I fly alone like a commodore, we on a tour so prepare for war
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| Cause you’s about to feel the wrath of the Gen. Woundwart |