| My name is legendary on all blocks, spitting fireball rocks
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| Before they call pops had bodies in walls and crawl spots
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| Hammers is all cocked
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| So many Makaveli mini-me's in the game it’s a fucking outbreak of small pox/pacs
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| And beef is when everybody is not breathing
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| so body me not even
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| Everybody is holding and probably not squeezing
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| And last year niggaz albums did more flopping then a Vlade Divac season
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| Shit I’m warning them flinch and the itching trigger finger is gon start
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| forming a clench
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| And you come that hot lead storm and you drenched
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| My flow as fury as the scorn of a bitch
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| And you hot niggaz ain’t keeping shit warm but the bench
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| I’m a beast in bed, check my dick head for triple sixes
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| I’ll hit a fat ass from the back until it ripples vicious
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| Give titty nipples stitches
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| I’m a pimp, pussy fall in my lap like a strip club full of clumsy crippled
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| bitches
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| They say death comes in threes, but fuck it I’m feeling a fourth nut
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| Ejaculation until my scrotum shrivels and dwarfs up From getting brain and poo-nani from two mami’s
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| I’m tsunami with the spitting, you cartoon as niggaz is Toonami
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| Y’all faggots wish the champs lose but that ain’t chips on y’all shoulders,
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| switch your shampoos
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| Your cosigning gangsta shit you cant prove
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| The hood wont take ya
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| Y’all print model spitting, got no flow but the shit looks good on paper
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| Spit bars that will knock out whole alliances
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| Out cold, y’all about the be outsold and client-less
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| Mouths closed in silence
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| This fear will smoke y’all asses faster than DMX’s household appliances
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| You got no money and mo problems you backwards Frank White
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| I shit on who you thinks nice for 'fore the eyes of the Lord can blink twice
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| Ain’t a belt long enough to spank Christ
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| And ain’t shit sweet bitch, only suge’in my tanks knight
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| Niggaz asking 'When is Va gon bling?'
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| Or 'When is Vakill gon establish himself as Chicago’s king?'
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| Im dreaming bout a 10 Million a year gun cargo ring
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| And the crown dont move, it goes where I go… scene
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| For decades hip hop been misusing the goal
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| Now that bitch about to tear up and some tissues fin’to blow
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| Who got issues with the flow?
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| You in XXL 'Step Yo Rap Game Up’section 12 issues in a row
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| Matter of time til my shit classic soon
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| Am I nice, how can you ask it spit burns acid wounds
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| And run cemeteries outta casket room, yall gassed with fumes
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| Alcohol to melt a chrome nine to a plastic spoon
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| Its simple I’m flyest, spit on graves to rekindle a fire
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| And funeral directors is assembling choirs
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| No flows resemble Messiah’s
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| Niggaz do not want it til a vest with a Superman symbols acquired, prior |