| Rock Marcy, so stop spreddin out malarchy
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| My rap anarchy, blaze more wigs than Barbara Sharpsee
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| I’m a freakers army? |
| Savage ya type, like Chaka Zulo, papi chulo
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| Not to be sulo, wilder than Kujo, you actin fool yo
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| Come on, swing 'em like a two-way, back to school
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| Rulership shit, bring them the newest, Tony Touch 'em, I fuck 'em
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| This fool, who can fuck with his dude
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| Check what the butler, I cut his ass up, somethin disgusting kid
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| My custom is, government cheese, chumpin them steez
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| Who’s a monkey wrench, jumpin machines get in between, so it seem
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| It’ll only cause a moment of scream
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| The super seed what I be sayin is like a king on his knees
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| I never fall, cuz the ring on my paw plead forgiveness
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| Loot for rightness, superstitious, bazooka hit his ass out
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| Break a suspicious, three sixes of cum
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| Anti religious, kill em off on the first try
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| Flipmode Squad, there is none higher
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| You bitch ass niggas, should call Messiah
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| We won’t stop rockin, until we retire
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| Let’s blow the spot and set the muthafucka on fire
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| Aiyo let’s turn the heat up (and set it on fire!)
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| Let’s bring the noise my nigga (and set it on fire!)
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| And what the fuck ya niggas wanna do (and set it on fire!)
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| Go get the gas and the matches (and set it on fire!)
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| Ya niggas in the game, ya ain’t go no press
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| Yo I go to Hillside and cop a V from Less
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| Me and Flip on the lot, in the green G. S
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| Leathers is out, rims yo they be B. S
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| T.V.'s in the dash, watchin C.B.S
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| Later on watch the Knicks on T.B.S
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| Rampage I’m the nigga, no second guess
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| Yo my beeper goes off, it’s them shorties from out West
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| Call them back, hit them off on street jack
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| I let 'em know, how this real nigga polly that
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| I’m in my car yo, them honies in the Pontiac
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| How I dress, how I hustle, where the money at?
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| They love my rings, my watch, how I flooded that
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| Put that on my eggs and toast and just butter that
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| Flipmode, Tony Touch, son double that
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| Fuck around, shit gon double plat'
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| Analyze the flavor, we bout to blaze ya, every move is major
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| Major paper, office space up in the skyscraper
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| Niggas on my crew dick, and need to get down
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| Frown, from when your crew was just a major let down
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| Official, sparkerly clear just like a glass crystal
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| Blast a pistol, that’s when ya start to hear my missile whistle
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| Jesus, pledge of allegiance to the sole prestigious
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| With the antitote to make ya wanna bust ya heaters
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| Release this, I hope ya know that we about to freak this
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| Fuck discreteness, analyze every nigga weakness
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| Cut ya face up, then fuck the place up
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| Pass the L, without the coca lace up, let’s pick the pace up
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| Stick the place up, then shake up, then click ya base up
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| Wrong move, we puncture everything from ya waist up
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| Blow the space up, while ya gaspin off ransom
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| Then get the dough and put an expansion on my mansion
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| First and only female here to play my position
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| Make it hotter than the projects with no air conditioning
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| Honey petite, walk around with the screwface
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| Dip from the whip, on down to my shoelace
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| Can’t see us, mommy sippin San Greas
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| Shotgun style will open up ya pancreas
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| Puff remix, hittin sponsor for free kicks
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| Bootleg ya shit with me spittin on the remix
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| Type shit like doin shows with a blind fold
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| Voicey Q. will blow a circuit out ya console
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| Fuckin wit how I spit, ain’t gonna paper
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| Black hoody tight wit a teeny bit of makeup
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| No need to brag, my legislate speak
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| Nine nine dig the time to shine like Memph Bleek
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| Crown and half sheet, my white label leak
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| Tellin MC’s to count eight weeks and say peace
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| Ok, you wanna make a million fuckin dollars?
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| Ok, I tell Tony Touch to put out a fuckin mixtape
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| A mill here, a mill there
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| In fuckin 10 years, we fuckin buy this whole fuckin place, puto. |