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Now I rock a house party at the drop of a hat |
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I beat a biter down with an aluminum bat |
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A lot of people they be jonesin' just to hear me rock the mic |
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They'll be starin' at the radio, staying up all night |
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So like a pimp I'm pimpin', I got a boat to eat shrimp in |
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Nothing wrong with my leg I'm just B-Boy limpin' |
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Got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumpin' on a float |
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My man MCA's got a beard like a billy goat |
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Oowah oowah, is thedisco call |
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MCA, hu-huh, I'm gettin' rope y'all |
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Routines I bust and the rhymes that I write |
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And I'll be bustin' routines and rhymes all night |
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Like eatin' burgers or chicken andyou'll be pickin' your nose |
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I'm on time homey that's how it goes |
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You heard my style, I think you missed the point |
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It's the joint |
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Mike D, with your bad self runnin' things |
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What's up with your bad breath? Onion rings |
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Well I'm Mike D, and I'm back from the dead |
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Chillin' at the beach, down at Club Med |
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Make another record 'cause the people they want more of this |
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Suckers they be sayin' they can take out Adam Horowitz |
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Hurricane, you got clout |
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Other DJ's hell take your head out |
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A puppet on a string, I'm paid to sing or rhyme |
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Or do my thing |
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I'm in a lava lamp inside the brain hotel |
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I might be freakin' or peakin', but I rock well |
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The Patty Duke, the wrench, and then I bust the tango |
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Got more rhymes than Jamaica got Mango Kangols |
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I got the peg leg at the end of my stump |
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Shake your rump |
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Full clout y'all |
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Full clout y'all |
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And when the mic is in my mouthI turn it out y'all |
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Full clout |
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Never been dumped, 'cause I'm the most mackinest |
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Never been jumped, 'cause I'm known the most packinest |
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Yeah, we've got beef chief, we're knockin' out teeth chief |
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And if you don't believe us you should question your belief, Keith |
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I'm like Sam the butcher bringin' Alice the meat |
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Like Fred Flintstone drivin' around with bald feet |
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Should I have another sip? Nah, skip it |
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In the back of the ride and bust with the whippet |
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Rope a dope Dookies all around the neck |
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Whoo ha, yo garcon the cheque |
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Running from the law, the press, and the parents |
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Is your name Michael Diamond? No mine's Clarence |
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From Downtown, Manhattan, the Village |
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My style is wild and you know that it still is |
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Disco bag schlepping and you're doing the bump |
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Shake your rump |