| You’re steppin' to us? |
| You need traction
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| Or you’ll be another sucker missin' in action
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| Pathological fantasies of a million OZ’s
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| Inhalational OD ecstasy codeine slow beam vision
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| Of life in and out of prison impressionable wisdom
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| Struggle your zone son, vivid
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| Man, fuck a rapper, fuck his crew and fuck the label that owns him
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| I take it there, state of affairs has got me jonesin'
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| The real hit to get me lit and immobile
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| Promos cross the global but most are lackin' in vocals
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| They don’t suffice, that’s why we must heist
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| There ain’t no substance in your cup
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| There’s just a whole bunch of crushed ice
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| How bout I just buy two nice box sets
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| Before I buy a copy of that obnoxious shit
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| Or even pay to see you rock your shit
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| I lost my grip on the hope I carry
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| But you lost reality when I grabbed the mic and broke your cherry
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| Mission, ignore the bullshit out of existence
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| Alas, overruled, cause they got the masses twisted
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| I wonder if God’ll have any pity on MC’s
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| Or if he’ll just judge them as being average human beings
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| Some ain’t seein' their faults, Others become part of a rapper
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| Caught in a way to be placed in the back of a vault
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| The black angel can’t be caught stalkin'
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| Sometimes you can feel him when you’re walkin'
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| Listenin' when you’re talkin'
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| Thine eyes is keener than a falcon
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| Excuse me for gawkin' I think I seen your face before in a coffin
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| Or maybe I robbed you out while we were golfin'
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| Like ?, jet back off to the loft where
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| We count the software, Life is always false never fair
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| So there’s, no type of amusement to take music out of my hair
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| I grew up psychotic but I kept the shit in the closet
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| Readin' magazines about scopin' and killin' targets
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| That’s why I’m harshed with, any individual
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| Who wants to test the lyrical meta-gal
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| I ring bells and swing rails over the crowd
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| Tryin' to scowl to the mic, Who can envision my living?
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| Havin' sessions throughout the night, Why get excited
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| When I see these fake MC’s stylin', cancelled contracts are pilin'
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| Niggas be jivin'. |
| Tellin' lies and fibs about the life you live
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| You must be high off this drama in the triflin' bids
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| I strike your shit and bring about violent current tears
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| Cause I’m merciless, suck on a nipple just for preservatives
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| Accurate attack, smack niggas back millenniums
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| Militant tactics attract black youth to my Tienanmen square
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| Cinnamon brown-skin four point square
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| Assault mechaniz, I stagger with air, through the record biz
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| Oblivious to foul shit, hell & corporate
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| Dig Dug helium mentality, nigga forfeit
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| Jewels, royalty, car keys, Gs, garment
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| Deadly dormant, ass naked out your apartment
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| Complex, niggas are starving
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| Principality normally, fatality verbally burn, scalding
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| Ancient art forms pour out my cauldron
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| Adrenaline runs free, I’m pole vaulting
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| Faulty individuals seek for higher medicine
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| Mescaline, masculinity converts feminine
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| Melanin, I gots that locked like DNA code
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| Too much ying, without your yang sucker, your bound to fold
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| I been havin' a chat with my alter ego, and we know
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| Suckas will be fakin' everywhere we go
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| He’s a honky and I’m a negro but we’re equal
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| Lookin' at life, stayin' away from what might be lethal
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| Let’s do what’s illegal, I’m sick of this game, it’s evil
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| And niggas is insane like cutlasses and regales
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| I see no more originality in flows
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| That’s why I’ve grown colder than the Minnesota snows
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| And who knows when a life comes and when one goes
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| I just have to stay on my toes long after I’ve gone pro
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| I don’t want the barrio, I need construction concrete
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| To build my shit and I don’t give a fuck how much you stomp beef
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| People try to be extravagant with they inhabitants
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| Yapping about their yearly income and what they’re averaging
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| That shit is gaverin' and all the hoes dancin' in the club
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| Lookin' for love, showin' leg to get a scrub
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| Niggas have got you gassed off the limos and cash
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| But that shit is a fantasy cause I tell you will never last
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| I got a little heart so I’mma tell you a psalm
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| But don’t ever make the mistake thinkin' that I give a fuck
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| Inflicted, I clench my eyes and let the tenseness rise
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| Clench the mic by the neck, take a breath and then surprise
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| Whoda known? |
| We won’t leave you alone
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| We grab you by your collar bone, we drag you screamin' through the zone
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| The truth is shown, that showings after a short break
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| Enough time to violate an MC if we skip the foreplay
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| Now I’mma catch a breath, if you wanna test your rep
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| The line begins over here on the left, Dynospec |