| You crossed the line; |
| now there’s no coming back
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| MCs are getting sucked into my intergalactical pull
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| I’m the article don’ya on your arse
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| If you get the microphone, nigga, you better say pass that
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| Need no questions, and I’m telling you no lies
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| If you lookin' at me wrong, this goes under for your eyes
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| Realize you can’t knock this, cuz my style’s obnoxious
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| It’s gaseous, I’m turning all ya’ll wack patients to ashes
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| This thing’s created, debated, from here to Asia
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| Mind of rhyme, must find your vocabulary kind of
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| Ordinary, my guitar shit is scary, maybe we’re legendary
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| We roll blunts like Bob Marley, and
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| You didn’t know but Sugar Hill, it was a band
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| My man, know your history before you try to sham, or
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| Shimmy coco pop, fronting niggas need to stop
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| Until the T.O.P.'s where you find the Refugees
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| Free like Jamaicans when they’re feeling irie
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| So, Wyclef, won’t you touch it?
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| For your rhymers
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| You ain’t a rapper
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| Your vocab can’t extend
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| Access, freestyle, need no practice
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| Ask the methodist, ask the methodist
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| Too many MC’s but they didn’t get the picture
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| So you say you see me like Line the Reacher
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| Body executed right on the
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| I don’t take it as an insult
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| See these dimensions and extensions will secure my future pension
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| When I mention corporate lynchin’s like the cowboys did to Indians
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| The intentions of the devil is to cause me hypertension
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| So stay gold like Stevie Wonder, don’t blunder like OJ Simpson
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| Wyclef Jean:
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| Don’t blunder like OJ Simpson, thsi is a freestyle
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| Wyclefm so let me freak you for a while
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| I eat pork from a fork
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| Add an extra bar |