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INTRO (YlooK) |
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Uh..T dot O to the N dot Y |
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That's how we do it |
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Choclair, Kardinall hooked with my man Guru |
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And YlooK bitch? What the f**k? |
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(Choclair) |
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Yo, T-dot rocks y'all |
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We smoke and mix up in your face, you weeded |
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So you drop y'all, leaving y'all hired skills depleated |
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'Cause you lockjaw, Chocs and Guru begin |
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Can you believe this how we lock y'all |
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Niggas who be talking how they bigger |
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How you figure? |
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You can spark with or talk with |
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This raw artist |
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You talk heartless but game straight harmless |
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Snatch your mic out your hand |
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Leave your fingers harmless |
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We rottweilers, while y'all be the tires |
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You need to retire |
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F**king with Toronto, get your pink slip you're fired |
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Kicked out the Thompson Hall through Apollo doors |
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Guru be the bre-the-ren |
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Bless the man, slide like the doors on the Caravan |
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(Guru) |
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The ill format, the skills all that |
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Twist enemies Jack |
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Let's counteract, plus build and all that |
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In fact, take a flight to Toronto and back |
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Be over there with Choclair, Kardinall with the track |
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In the year born born, suckers have been forewarned |
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Take you higher than hydro or Moet ?? |
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Word is bond, it's on in this rap game |
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I slap mens, mack dames, yes I'm a fly black king |
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Stacking paper now, packing flavour now |
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Hit you dead in the head now |
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My hunger gotta get fed now |
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My style's similar to a fierce knuckle hit |
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Or like hollow-points to pierce your whole f**king frame |
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CHORUS X2 (Choclair) {Guru} |
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A-yo witness the fitness |
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Who's next on the hitlist? |
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Rap so exact that you can't do shit |
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{Witness the fitness} |
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{Who's next on the hitlist?} |
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{Rap so exact you catch the shakes like a sickness} |
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(Choclair) |
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Now it's the skinny man dropping this |
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Lock your brain, lock your lips |
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Talking shit? Bust your game |
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Career flops? I'm to blame |
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What's the name? (yeah) |
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Guru and the Chocs will reign |
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Wild like the lion's mane walking through the rain |
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Or walking through the pain of critic suffering |
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Got my eyes on the prize with the red dot locked |
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That's to keep it hot |
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My hungry-ass niggas be down for the figures |
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Green in the jean, Cruise like some act figures |
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You f**king with some raw, suave, dog ass niggas |
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Look into the eyes of the man that will be detrimental to your career |
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If you even touch the micstand, nigga 'nuff said |
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Verse 4: Guru |
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Hear the battle cry |
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Niggas getting herded like cattle to die |
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Why? (why?) What the f**k you think? (what the f**k you think?) |
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You know they want our type of species to become extinct |
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Still we multiply, they can't really kill us |
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They're upset, we're a threat 'cause their kids really feel us |
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They think we're drug dealers, and some of us maybe are |
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But I be the G-U-R-U of the Gang to the Starr |
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I'm going far baby pa, dipping in a fly car |
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Getting eyes from the honeys, parking up at the bar |
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Always up to par when I spar |
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And yo, while your protecting your neck I be like breaking your jaw |
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Yo trizzack, your shit's wizzack |
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I took that shit thizzack, it shouldn't of even been up on the rizzack |
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Straight like thizzack, motherf**kers |
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CHORUS |
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A-yo witness the fitness |
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Who's next on the hitlist? |
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Rap so exact that you can't do shit |
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Cut and scratched by YlooK |
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"My attitude on the hoes.." <-- Choclair |
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"I wreck the mic like a pimp pimps hoes" <-- Guru |