| When the big dogs gather and snap their jaws
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| With big boss matters this cat is lost
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| Left with low batteries acting soft
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| For a starter I have a beef with some vegetables
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| I go gazpacho on them like a tap dancer
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| Suckers caught running put them in ambulances
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| Advancing elephants leaving big tracks
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| Ain’t clearing them Linus leave 'em on wax
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| While label rats crying in their coco puffs
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| I’m still untouchable like Alfred Nobel grub
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| Making hits screaming «hold them up!»
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| And go gold rushing for Chernobyl stuff
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| On girls lips like lip gloss always
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| Shining like the LED’s on my SP all day
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| Game is sick, need of rescue, and first aid
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| Our shit spinning your hat and your jersey
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| Suckers trying to step to the up most elevated
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| Boogie B dope shit I medicate it
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| Take two of these and stop calling
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| I only rock mics when my tummy starts growling
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| Wrarr! |
| Wrarr! |
| I hit 'em in the eye socket
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| Rappers so played out like a game of croquet
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| I hit the crates for the boom shit
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| And can’t really care if label dudes approve it
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| On a quest to destroy rap
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| They say yall is the future
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| But where are the droids at
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| C3-P0, see me be yo
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| Boogie B you got freaky flows
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| Loops I choose to get III on
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| Wax Tailor hold me down with the real strong
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| Grooves with the soul intact
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| You feel the boom the bap 'cause we sampled that!
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| If we see a cigarette butt we picking it up
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| Now you wanting my money man you tripping and stuff
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| Looking for the breaks and digging them up
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| It’s the life that we know and we living it up
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| If we see a cigarette butt we picking it up
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| Now you wanting my money man you tripping and stuff
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| Looking for the breaks and digging them up
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| It’s the life that we know and we living it up |