| Me without a mic is 23 without the Nikes
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| A writer said we light, but don’t believe the hype
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| I’m fluid like a druid when he’s circlin stones
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| I chrome the conduit and hear through headphones
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| Write words to match, put the herb in the batch
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| I shove em in the oven and watch em react
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| In fact, I bring it back like a holding car
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| Consumers take it off the rack like a bowling ball
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| I admit it, critics get under my skin
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| I discipline men with the ink from a pen
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| Or better yet with a Bic, I’m razor-sharp like it’s chic
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| I break the ice like a pick, nice without the Vicks
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| (Dizzy Dustin) comin with combustion
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| Yvan Drago, I must break you when I rush in
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| Cause yo, it’s disgusting
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| People treat rap like an urinal
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| We take it personal
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| I do encores on tours, night after night
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| Takin flight like condors, clingin the light
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| I hold on tight when I’m flippin acrobatics
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| Grippin microphones like my hands were two magnets
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| Hip-hop's detergent all-purpose
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| Quarantine the scene, clean the stains below the surface
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| Put it in your box, don’t knock it till you try it
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| And all the Ugly people be quiet |