| Yes, yes
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| To the east my brother to the east x4
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| The revival of the raw
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| To the east my brother to the east x4
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| Sir Jinx and
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| Brother J y’all
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| Graveyard shift
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| Come on, break it down
|
| To the east my brother to the east
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| The revival of the raw
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| I be the sweet tongue assassin
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| The unraveller
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| Ballistic manifest
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| Three fifty-seven caliber
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| The spectacular, vibrations grabbing your
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| Body and soul?
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| While I’m stabbing these hostile verb braggers
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| Like Cyclops, with more lip control than Mic Jagger
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| X factor, witness the mic control bagger
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| Fiddle game of tag
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| Make haste with spook, blacker
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| ? |
| out slackers when I put your slang tones
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| Patchwork brother how’d his crews end up sown
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| Brother of the zone speakers
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| Their minds blown
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| Evolution seeds knowledge
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| We home grown
|
| Smoke out the crater of your crew’s lost skulls
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| Devils annul
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| Slick tongue make swords dull
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| J be the God while you fools talk the bull
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| Born to build worlds with my universal pull
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| I want action, baby
|
| ? |
| that mediocre play
|
| My treasure dialog make your record sour your ways
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| Triple six killer perfecting a demon slay
|
| Step up in my cipher
|
| Reflect my solar rays
|
| Where we headed?
|
| To the east teaching God to be
|
| Now yes, yes y’all were laying groove for storm
|
| A come on in now
|
| To the east teaching Gods to be
|
| Now what is was what it is and again shall be
|
| Now where we headed?
|
| To the east teaching Gods to be
|
| Now yes, yes y’all let’s sing groove for Ra
|
| Now cone on in, ah
|
| To the east teaching Gods to be
|
| The revival of the raw
|
| My double cobras reach my crown
|
| Son, I bless this mic
|
| And broadcast from wise zone
|
| With the frequencies of life
|
| My evolution seeds blossom to sweet fruit
|
| Black boot squash? |
| execute
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| Futuristic style that still sport the basics
|
| Fools that trace this
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| Lost in space in my matrix
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| Torn the basis
|
| Now my verbs complete
|
| Throughout you lunar year
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| Seven days, fifty-two weeks
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| Clubs to the streets, valleys to mountain peaks
|
| Master builder, architect enough heat
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| Rappers to the east have come to set the peace
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| So these grimy M.C.s, don’t hope to test me
|
| Where we headed? |