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Pressure |
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When I start breathing heavily, I scar the beat the beat and melody, |
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They said that we dreaming we'll keep reaching till leaving heavenly, |
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The key to freedoms said to be, release and leave the memory, |
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Think you offended me? Please, with critics like these who needs an enemy? |
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Indeed a breed of pedigree beast unleashing speech telepathy, |
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Here to bleed the industry of its diseased and evil effigy, |
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Demons, thieving, greed and revelry, we're in need and seeking remedy, |
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But it seems to stay ten feet ahead of me like a centipede, |
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I'm a train upon a track; I'm a flame upon a match, |
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Ain't straying from my place I want my face upon the map, |
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I'm the weight upon your back, I'm a razor your lap, |
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We came to conquer, stage and opera, fade it onto black, |
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Now hush, hear the voice, so addicted to the, |
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Rush to fill the void, missing everything we, |
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Love to feel joy, build it up then we, |
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Crush, kill, destroy |
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Chorus |
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We came and we conquered, they praying to poppa, |
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They claiming they want to, they really don't want to, |
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You ain't maiming a monster so don't bother with offers, |
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Till the day that I die, I ain't stepping aside for one of you, |
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We came and we conquered, they praying to poppa, |
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They claiming they want to, they really don't want to, |
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You ain't maiming a monster so don't bother with offers, |
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Till the day that I die, I ain't stepping aside for one of you |
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Suffa |
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I go bananas every time, mind blown Nirvana, Nevermind, |
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They need some ketamine to calm us, harness the darkness every line, |
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Till I been enlightened I'm leaving 'em terrified, |
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Like Bin Laden been hiding under their bed every night they go beddy-bye, |
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Fat as the fattest Federline, fat as that cat post Brittney, |
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Madness that is a friend of mine, rappers get mashed so quickly, |
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War comes, hear the roar from the raw drums, beat your poor son just from the boredom, |
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Jump up, but you're stunned, dumb struck, you're done like Young Buck post Fifty, |
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We claw at the morons, and pour on the soothing hooks on heaters, |
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Like them pouring the Boron on core on the shore of Fukushima, |
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They adore the recordings and we lording it over them, |
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Think we're joking? Then we're going door to door with some Dobermans, |
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No DMX, they thinking they got me pegged like BMX, |
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But ain't seeing T or X, Briggs, Hons, Debris or Vents, |
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We the best, no Khaled, |
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We the best like Ali, Muhammad |
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Chorus |
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We came and we conquered, they praying to poppa, |
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They claiming they want to, they really don't want to, |
|
You ain't maiming a monster so don't bother with offers, |
|
Till the day that I die, I ain't stepping aside for one of you, |
|
We came and we conquered, they praying to poppa, |
|
They claiming they want to, they really don't want to, |
|
You ain't maiming a monster so don't bother with offers, |
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Till the day that I die, I ain't stepping aside for one of you |