| I carry the weight you niggas is scared to touch
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| I fought in a war
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| You niggas is scared as fuck
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| I paid my dues and rapped for free
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| Ain’t nobody held it down for the east like the d.o.g
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| Snoop took the name
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| X took the bark
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| Next nigga take my shit going to lay in the park
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| That’s my word
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| So go tell your man what you heard
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| Tell them Dog is back and he’s rhyming absurd
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| Fuck running with 50 niggas that talk too much
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| Rather buy a hundred shells that don’t cost too much
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| Hit all y’all niggas
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| Spit one for all y’all niggas
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| Fuck with Tim Dog you going to fall young nigga
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| I don’t give a fuck about your block or your label
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| Or your gear, but your bitch can come here
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| I’m a fifteen year vet
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| That means I don’t sweat
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| When I look around the game I see no threat
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| Point him out
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| Who’s on top
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| Who got the crown
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| Rap shit, street shit
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| I’ll still shut him down
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| Niggas always say «Why you mad, B?»
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| I look around the game and see all these tragedies
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| These Hollywood rappers and studio wanksters
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| With false identities never giving a thanks to
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| To rappers who paid your dues to cause
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| Oh bye the way, fuck the Source
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| Dave Mays used to be my brother
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| Lost respect when you put Martin Lawrence on the cover
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| What the fuck is that?
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| That’s not Hip-Hop
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| It’s got to stop, nigga
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| It’s got to stop
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| You want to know the true meaning of Hip-Hop?
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| KRS, Biggie Smalls, Public Enemy and Pac
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| And some of you rappers got me shocked
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| How you let the record company run this spot
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| Rakim taught knowledge of self
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| Dr. Dre, greedy bastard didn’t share the wealth
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| And Russell Simmons got a billion for Def Jam
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| And still won’t give Nice and Smooth a hand
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| Fuck it
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| Give us fifty grand
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| Help us make a plan
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| Watch us take back our music from the fucking man
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| What you run with Stan?
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| Rather hang with Shady
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| Eminem the best rapper, are you crazy?
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| But that’s what they do to rattle a brother
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| Make 50 and Ja try to battle each other
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| And just when we about to go to war
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| Jimmy Iovine is taking over y’all
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| You don’t believe me?
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| Well check the stats
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| You ain’t feeling me?
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| I state the facts
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| Farrakhan held a meeting to settle the rap war
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| But no one showed up to settle the black war
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| Everybody’s to concerned with what we say in our rhyme
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| But no one give a damn about a child with a nine
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| You’re all being controlled by the deaf and the blind
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| You call it the government
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| I call it house of swine
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| When my album drop, I bet you try to take mine
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| But I’m going out like them kids from Columbine
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| Here’s the bottom line
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| We’re running out of time
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| Bush don’t give a fuck about yours and mine
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| He control you motherfuckers like telekinesis
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| Through you plaques, through your phantoms and your Jesus pieces
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| And now we’re consumed with diseases
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| I lost my uncle to aids and my father to cancer
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| And you ain’t got no money for an answer
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| But you got money for your mansion
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| Government expansion and advances
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| You got money to attack in Iraq
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| Then bring the all back nigga that’s wack
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| Here’s more to the fact and more to the stack
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| The military recruits more of us blacks
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| We stand in the front line
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| And bleed in the streets
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| And we come back home with nothing to eat
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| And y’all niggas got the nerve to criticize me
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| From what I say in a record
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| You don’t like it, don’t buy it
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| But stepping to me, don’t try it
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| Cause if I die, I’m going to die on my own two feet
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| And if I die it ain’t going to be for free
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| So fuck you pay me |