| Chorus:
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| I’m not, your, Typical American
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| I’m not, your, Typical American
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| Tell me whose is whose, tell me who is on the microphone
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| I’m OaTie of the Goaties and I propose I would like a bone
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| Ta edge off the dredge I’m alleged to have sparked a joint
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| I speak political and blisstical I really hope ya like my points
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| I aim at a target like rife not a shotgun
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| Don’t spray into the fray ta prove that I got one
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| Hyde ya hose from Aaron, Rose cause he knows how ta top one
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| 'Sgot a nose for the prose so don’t suppose he will stop son
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| I’m rollin’into this rhyme like ya’d bite a tendoroni
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| I’m rollin’into this rap cause it’s mine and ya know me I won’t mind defy or sing like Toni Tone
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| Singing for the supper like a dog does a boni
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| George get off my jock cause I’m really gettin’tired a this shit
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| So step back Dan and throw up those fist
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| Cause I’m a wreck shop and I turn this motherfucker out
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| Pay what is due me less I’m going up in your mouth
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| Yup yup I got the rhymes ta kick your butt
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| It be the G-O-A-T the M-A-D-D say what
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| Up hus I got bucks yeah I be on the 2 bus
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| So what’s up I got nuff respect ta make ya jump
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| Welfare receiver with the north side attitude
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| I’ve had the shit piled up like in multitudes
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| Nappy headed, holey shoed, roundin’out the roster fist
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| Ya Wanna step you better check the Green Monster first
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| I don’t pretend to be a nice guy so why ya try
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| I can go to plan B and you can get an eye jammy
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| So save the sob story for a storybook and look
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| Jack-in-the-box can take a lickin’but I’m never gettin’took
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| By Uncle Scam and his band of political crooks
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| Searchin’nooks and crannies of my grammy’s pocketbook
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| Hello hello can ya hear me now G The typical American kid that ain’t me Neither is Oatie or the M A double D So pass the dutchie on the left-hand side
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| And don’t hide the crop cause I the E-Z-Wides
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| I’m gonna survive not suck seed, cause I stand as a man
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| And you can’t hand me no bird feed
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| Pop goes ya head like the top of a daisy
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| Ya ghost when the world hits like Patrick Swayze
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| Crazy this shit about a plausible denial
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| North takes the rap while ya clap at the trial
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| Pie la mode, the ghettos will explode
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| While ya sit pigeon-toed at diamond commode
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| Another episode of ya walkin’the streets
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| Million dollar stroll five thousand pigs on on the beat
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| For the very first time imported from the hills
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| Ya take money from the poor like a fiend pops pills
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| Like the Mills Brothers ya sing a very white song
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| But the roots of ya soul kinda colored belong
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| I’m paralizing punks with a positive pedigree
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| For those who choose to love me, I’m the M-A double D For those who choose to hate me, I negate like their full effect
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| Feelin’ready and willin’ta break Darryl Gates’neck
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| Like fee diddily foe, fum I gets dumb
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| And like the typical American black male I’m done
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| Eatin’apple pies when Ma Double’s rockin’rhymes
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| Ya know they on my nuts hus, they climb, they climb
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| Ta hell with Stormin’Norman I write rhymes Black
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| They be political plus they be all o’that
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| Philly born and bred wit blunts straight to the head
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| Callin’me conformist, man I warned you that shit was dead
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| Military is a mockery for all to see
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| Be all you be is just another trick that’s up their sleeves
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| But ya better believe that you’ll be grieving when ya ain’t receiving
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| What was promised don’t be atonished cause ya won’t be leaven
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| They reeled ya in like your skin had fins
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| Now you’re poundin’sand for another man’s sins
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| To each his own to each his own they say
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| But I’m gonna blow a bone and you can march 'til the cows come home
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| You likes alone and me direct your own ???
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| But when you come home in a box
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| Green draws, green pants, green socks
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| Typical American kid, I think not |