| Yo. |
| yeah shit is real right now yaknahmsayin?
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| Who the nigga — motherfuckin Cormega
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| Queensbridge, that’s Q. B
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| Uptown — Connecticut, niggas is settin it
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| Tone Touch — you just don’t give a fuck
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| What nigga? |
| Far Rock', Iraq, to Southside
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| Son we gon' show these niggas
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| Yo, yo, what?
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| Niggas recognize the method I perfected rhymin
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| Rappers insecure, verbally I’m jeapordizin
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| Check the way that I be exercisin
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| My pen work for me for years, it’s death-defyin (ooh!)
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| You know the saga, the drama
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| The Queensbridge Kingpin, 'Mega Montana
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| To Touch I pledge allegiance, drugs sold for many reasons
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| Some for prestige, others they only way of eatin (no doubt)
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| My niggas pray to be in, a better life
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| We had plans to bag grams and get ahead at night (what?)
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| I fuck with officialist, thugs that hit you wit
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| Cop killer dum-dum shit, your whole shit is split
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| Livin this life, drippin in ice (uh)
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| Holdin my position like pimpin, write a composition
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| Trife uhh I’m takin mines like in Perry Mason times
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| Any attempt to stop me (check this) you wastin times
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| I could blaze a nine or infilitrate the line between paper
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| Rhymes like solidified white rock, shopped in eighty-nine
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| Rhyme for Beemers, Rovers, overachievers
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| Hold a heater to them other cultures, who deceive us
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| Blunted on a wanted poster with a golden millimeter
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| You think it ain’t real? |
| Check me on my next re-up, BEOTCH!
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| What nigga? |
| Who could fuck with this?
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| What? |
| Hahahah
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| Mobb Deep, C-N-N nigga, Shan
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| Nas nigga, Poet, Kamikaze, Killa Kid
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| Nature, what? |
| Q-B nation nigga
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| Back together, ha ha. |