| I get sick with this
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| Dawg you get hit with this, Ultramagnetic flow
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| Son it’s so ridiculous
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| So who’s the first to get, 16 bars of this?
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| Yo Harry be easy on that bass, son they ain’t ready for this
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| New funk, these cats is like babies in cribs
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| We gon' change the diapers in bibs
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| Sit 'em up in they chairs, and clean out they ears
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| Feed 'em spoon by spoon, then wipe the tears
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| A whole lot of you cats need new careers
|
| Trust me, I’m that cat you fear
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| Naw I’m not religious, nor am I righteous
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| But I can steer you in the right direction, son I’m the hypest
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| Silk masterrrr! |
| Silk
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| Silk masterrrr!
|
| I’m tired of rappers in the spotlight with baseball caps on they heads
|
| Gettin off the stage at the awards with cocaine takin away they legs
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| 200 grams of coke with the bottles, these guys sniff theyselves skinny
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| Walkin around they CRIBSSSS~!
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| Like models you freebasin a brick with a anorexic magazine chick
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| To cop ecstasy pills goin up cheap hills in expensive whip
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| Kissin the gonorrhea movie star with crab lice on her lip
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| Spendin the time on the gay cruise ship
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| Restauraunt waitresses say they don’t leave a tip
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| Cheap posses in jalopies, girls watch me baffle Chicago
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| With no uniform, I swing in my white jockies
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| I’m usually in the house by 8
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| The gorillas go and I close the windows on the apes
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| Come out before you wake up and get my papes
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| Y’all too busy thinkin 'bout jazz bass
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| Y’all smokin grass that’s sprayed and laced
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| Hey yo pass the dutch, pass the Henny
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| Keith I still got a ma up in the vocal booth
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| And she might be a little bit skinny
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| But she got on a little bitty mini
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| And I’m about to go up inny
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| Make her scream like Lil' Jenny
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| Then drink some Remy
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| And you know I still got on my jimmy |