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Bloody samurai, my feet will never die |
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Bloody samurai, my sword will never die |
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[Crisis:] |
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Yeah, I'm like daredevils, I dare devils to take it to that level |
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Make 'em dig they own grave, with they own shovels |
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Sharpshooter drop helicopters, black out shadows |
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Cause when it's time to ride, it's like pedal to the metal |
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Full fledged, beat suicidal, leave holes with skull heads |
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Hit your cult for your vote, leave 'em all dead |
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And some, Knights like games, plus handsome |
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Hoes hold me ransom, you mad and throw tantrums |
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Seven braids like Samson, strength of Jobe |
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Since these niggas wanna trip, I make it all unfold |
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Didn't choose the genie, didn't choose the leprechaun |
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Niggas better watch the grapes, like they stepping on |
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Thinking it's a game, I rose him, now your ass is frozen |
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Nuclear explosion, we straight West Coasting |
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[Thea Van Seijen:] |
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I was born as a soldier, and I'll fight in a field |
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I'll run like a hunter, and I'll die in the field |
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[Chorus x2] |
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[Rugged Monk:] |
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The street apostle with Roscoe's, that'll burn flesh off your fossil |
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Make you suck on that nozzle, 'fore you swallow these hollows |
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Clutching a bottle, yeah, I'm a hard act to follow |
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Nigga, I don't write raps, little homey, I write novels |
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Every chapter I capture, the mind of millions |
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When I slang raps like crack, to the women and children |
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Bring down the building, crime wars, oh what a feeling |
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Feels good like I'm puffing on that sticky chameleon |
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The street villain, made most of his money from drug dealing |
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It's rules to the game, trust nobody that's squealing |
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Cause snitching is a pet peeve, like a bitch with a bad weave |
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It's not honor amongst thieves, nigga deal with greed |
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I'm from a breed of real killas, that's cutthroat |
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That'll front you to work and kill you if a buck short |
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Bloodsport, flick you like the butt of my Newport |
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Or with the butt of my gun, take that, nigga, run |
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[Dexter Wiggles:] |
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I come to stop the hollering and screaming, blaow |
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Stop screaming, make a nigga wish he still dreaming |
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Since appearing against a ninja, taught him barbarianism |
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South Central mentalism, like the local news on the local high school |
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For all this realism, don't let all the whites go there |
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Cause all the whites'll go there, have 'em all braiding they hair |
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And having tattoos, and street numbers instead of good grades from school |
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It's like ridicule, and what would Jesus do? |
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People standing at apartment, he was beeping with that dizzle |
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Like a hole ain't enough to end all ridicule |
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But a ho'll get real holy enough to preach and end you |
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[Chorus x2] |
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[Sample:] |
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If you win, I'll tell you where to find the number two |
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If I win, I have your head |
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Do we have a deal? |