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Alright everybody move back from the ropes |
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If you don't move back we're gonna turn this music off |
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and that's my word, move back! |
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Word is bond let's get this shit goin |
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Word up, it's the Funk Doc in the house |
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say hell yeah! HELL YEAH! |
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Say **** yeah! **** YEAH! |
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Word up, it's the Funk Doc Spock you don't stop |
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It's my man KRS you don't stop |
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It's the girl Angie you don't stop |
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With the hah haha ha haha hah!! |
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[Angie Martinez] |
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It's the Butter Pecan Rican speakin deletin |
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other radio jocks that think they competin |
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they pre-sweetened, like candy, I'm hot like pepper |
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Big up to Sandy but my name is Angie |
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Martinez, what a true microphone fiend is |
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Steppin up lovely with MY, AD-IDAS |
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through your speakers, representin |
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boriquas, and all hip-hop rhyme seekers |
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You may think I'm crazy right, but I'm crazy hype |
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Slay this nice y'all, every time Angie grab the mic |
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I jams it right tonight, not the hardest |
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But peep the style of this Puerto Rican Goddess |
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[Redman] |
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Aiyyo yo yo yo, stop the music! |
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Aiyyo back up off the ropes, man, word up! |
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Yo get from the off the ropes |
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Now aiyyo yo yo, KRS-One, come again the selector! |
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[KRS-One] |
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It's been a long time but we made it, you waited |
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You gettin frustrated cause these MC's in trainin |
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Skills on the mic for a royalty save it |
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Pullin down rap so that others can't make it |
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They can't fake it in front of KRS they naked |
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That same old MC trend I'm here to break it |
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The highly conceptional multidirectional |
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Hot in ninety-seven so I guess I'm flexible |
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Rap relieve stress so yes I guess it's medical |
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All your wrecking and raping is still theoretical |
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Redman, you know you must understand (Whatup?) |
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Redman, you know you gots to understand (Hah! Whatup love?) |
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Angie, rockin with the one BDP (Ha, haha) |
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Representin right now at Hit Factory |
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[Redman] |
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One two hah, and you don't quit |
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It's Kris and Angie with the ultimate |
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One two hah, and you don't quack |
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It's Funk Doc smoke weed and don't smoke crack |
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Hahaha, hah, and you don't quit |
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Hoohahhahah, and you don't quit |
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I rock jams like, Samsonites with mics |
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Stage two boomin system and flood the lights |
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The lyrical, fo'-fo's lettin off like suppose |
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Reggie Reg is rockin on the ra-dioooo! |
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Hahh, huh, the oooh-child too chill |
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Caps peeled, Someone In My Bed like Dru Hill |
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Raise em up, cause I feel my spot can't be touched |
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No time for the Pauline jack, hit the clutch |
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Shotgun what?? It's the high exalted |
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Ruler of the buddha, the cash make my pockets |
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stick out like a tumor, for the consumers |
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I get busy with La Pluma, detonate the bomb |
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to make you hibernate sooner, certified luna-tic |
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My click run deeper than Charlie Tuna |
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Kahunas, raw for the able key movers |
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all over the hood like them Crooked I coolers |
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Bang maneuvers, from Jerz to Vancouver |
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Back to the Bronx with heartbeats ample looped up |
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I Blastmast like Kris, funk abyss |
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like a phone chauvinist with a Roley on the wrist |
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Sike! I can afford it, less I slaughtered |
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three platinum niggaz and none of em prerecorded |
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KRS-One need to be runnin for office |
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So Butter Pecan Rican -- tell them to get off his |