| Check, check… this that Peruvian… you know
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| OK I reloaded, the X5 fully loaded
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| Pressed for time toss the tech 9 into the ocean
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| Colleges cite the notes that they quote me in
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| Scriptures from the holiest
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| Live at the Smithsonian
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| You cats pussy juice drippin' out fallopians
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| Oprime39 write rhymes that’s opium
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| Roxicet, it’s science how we rock the set
|
| From out of left rockets ricochet to scar your flesh
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| Rappin' renegade with retard strength
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| Iron fist guaranteed I’m caving in y’all chest
|
| More less watch what you say to me
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| I chef raps till they savory, insane to see how I cook using A-Z
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| All day gourmet, that raw grade more bars than Rahway
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| Trick bitches in the hallway
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| 'bout to chisel my initials on your tombstone
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| Been official dipped the Wally’s now they two-toned
|
| Who the fuck you lying to?
|
| You trippin' you must be high on shrooms
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| You vagina juice, I only rhyme with goons
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| And that’s the TIMELESS TRUTH
|
| Claiming you wild and shoot
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| But your frame’s riot proof
|
| Drag you up a staircase and fling you off the highest roof
|
| Take it back like the Coliseum buying jewels
|
| Violent dudes pop the fuck off, like we frying food
|
| You better off trying to sign a truce you pussy
|
| You might as well tie your tubes
|
| You stand behind guys with lube
|
| The game used to be all about the livest crews
|
| Then Kanye blew, now only if you gay the labels signing you
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| Watered down and safe like a guy in a tie and suit
|
| I slaughter clowns, I ain’t relying on nobody’s loot
|
| Started a business like Ralphie Lipshitz
|
| Carnasie pimp shit, politic till I got links like Slick Rick
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| Sick kicks when you see’em you feel hurt
|
| Kill yourself, I’m out, ILL BILL sneaker Spielbergs
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| Persian carpets, oil portraits
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| Kept surveillance to surround the fortress
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| Die with the glory never forfeit
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| Dressed to kill put a body on the garments
|
| S&P 500 on the markets
|
| Kind of awkward how they wanna see me off it
|
| The same ones I spilled blood for and life I offered
|
| Would’ve slept six feet deep up in a coffin
|
| Queens trife life sometimes happen to often
|
| Rap for the street, flagship of the fleet
|
| Black chips under the mattress if we have to retreat
|
| Skatin' with an Asian actress in the passenger seat
|
| And my Gs follow suit, ten Maximas deep
|
| Then we gather at the gala, sippin at Cipriani’s
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| Tailored Ralphie, while she drippin' in Gianni
|
| Versace, medusa faces cover the temples
|
| Hawk eyes and eagle looks leather bound legal books
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| Learning law cuz we the crooks, now we freak the juxx |