| Well I’m sonically, high bionically
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| For you dummies, ironically stupid
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| What are you, Cupid?
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| You steal my rhymes, and then you loop it
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| Wrong! |
| Back this way
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| Follow me now, head this way
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| Into this, while I rap on through this
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| For many germs, who never knew this
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| Switches, upside down
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| Turn around, look in the mirror
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| You rap catchers are makin' a error
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| Every inning, I’m back to the dugout
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| You on the field, I’m ready to bugout
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| Like a manager, smackin' up your team
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| Male or female, ducks who dream
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| Of takin' me, on the mic and makin' me
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| Rack up, MC’s I stack up
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| Foreign precinct rappers need to back up
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| Quickly, I’mma rip your brain off
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| Throw it down so the blood can drain off
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| My hands, while I wave to a fan
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| I’m Kool Keith, not a Bill or a Dan
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| But a General, equal to a mineral
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| Pushin' a crowd, to keep on dancin'
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| I’m Housing Things
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| Now I’m back, to continue my verses
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| I’m never screamin' loud with any curses
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| Roughly, that a child can learn
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| I teach kids, and ducks that burn
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| With a flamethrower, and how do you show a
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| A grass rapper, cut him with a lawnmower
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| Twice, into golden wheat
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| Ground the rest into moldin' meat
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| And cook 'em, 'til they all well done
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| They not ready, they don’t smell done
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| Like fish, it ain’t my favorite dish
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| I grab a steak and a battle I wish
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| A Coke MC or Pepsi I’ll sip up
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| Drop your face and bring the other lip up
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| Watch, while I stun and amaze you
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| Kick out lyrics that truly’ll daze you
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| I’m your boss, the one that pays you
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| Nine to five, all ducks are hired
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| And when I come MC’s are fired
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| No pay, no way today
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| You’re unemployed with nothing to say
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| But I can say, one thing for sure
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| I’m Housing Things
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| I think it’s pitiful, that you had taunted me
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| Your girl sulkin', she wanted me first
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| Before you was thought about
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| Back in the days, when I taught about
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| Science, the real construction
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| No other solo team or production
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| Did that, or got with that
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| I play brain ball usin' a bat
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| To your skull, smack it out the park
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| I rhyme bright, and you’re in the dark
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| With shadows, hallucinating battles
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| To compel, the capital K, as in Kool
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| Combined in Keith
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| Rap metal is terminal chief
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| Android, squashin' the beef
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| On time, and my mic will stay on
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| For any roach or germ who wanna pray on
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| A weakness, but my uniqueness
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| Has a way to show that I’m slicker
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| Creating rhymes, you have to be, quicker
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| And versatile on the microphone
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| I’m Kool Keith, cold Housing Things
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| And I’d like to say whassup to my man, Father Mashon
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| And also my brother Kevvy Kev, Ced Gee, Moe Love, TR
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| And my man I God, Paul C, Public Enemy and the Jungle Brothers
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| Peace, I’m outta here |