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We on a brand new page. Millennium days, |
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desperation on the streets gotta find a new way |
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Keep the mics and choke holds. The saga unfolds |
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Machavellian approaches executed by the coach |
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I'm in these streets like a ghost |
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The air-jettin' artist |
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To the love, I hit 'em right plus I hit the hardest, man |
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I got a whole new approach for the rhymin' |
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You cherry cats slide, I'm holdin out for the Heisman |
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Uh! You play the rappin' roll |
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I take the rap and sold, |
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and intertwine it wit' mine and turn a half to whole |
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I'm just a genie in a Jack bottle |
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Them fake ballin'-ass cats is just a wack model |
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This joint knocks wit' the force of a gat throttle |
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I live by 'You put it out, we get it back' motto |
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Hey. But who around but just your average reproduction, love |
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Rap is gettin' lose so all the ice is screamin' 'Thug' |
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What the hell is wrong? I'm askin' in this song |
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One time I smoked hash out of the hippies' bong |
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One of us is goin' laid 'cause I ain't gettin' played |
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I leave you right inside that shitty-ass bed you made |
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and walk along chuggin' Baller's Brains, rockin' rings |
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and things and just waitin' for white rains |
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I got the drive, dog. I hope the dogs' ready |
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My mentality on dime chicks is stay sweaty |
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Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. |
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Get your (";It's the Ummah for all time.";) wait up. |
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Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. |
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Get your (";The Ummah forevea!";) wait up. |
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Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. |
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Get your (";GET YOUR WAAAIIIIIIIIIIT...";) wait up. |
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Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. |
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Get your (";..UP! UP! UP! UP! Yo!"; ) wait up. |
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You wanna shoot dice or wanna shoot rounds? |
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Wanna sell rhymes or wanna sell pounds? |
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The decision is yours. I'd rather see tours, |
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get chicks wit' ghetto shit fallin' out they drawers |
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My team stay posted. They stay roasted |
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Niggas who all in it had a hard knock livin' |
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Administra, rhyme minista, illa treasura |
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You didn't know that your man was a legend, huh? |
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Embonishment for the both of you |
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I hit the road and I take my whole fuckin' crew |
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cause I'm a Queens cat. (";True.";) To the G's cat. (";True.";) |
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Gettin' money for more than one needs cat. (";Aiiight, c'mon.";) |
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Condition never peers and (";Take it home, kid.";) mind stands out |
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From Seattle to South Beach my joint: grand clout |
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It's the street commentator, providin' you wit' data |
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on how to live unique and it's really not neat. We gotta... |
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Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. |
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Get your (";Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.";) wait up. |
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Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. |
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Get your (";Brand new shit, huh.";) wait up. |
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Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. |
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Get your (";GET YOUR WAAAIIIIIIIIIIT...";) wait up. |
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Wait up. Your wait up. Wait up. |
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Get your (";..UP! UP! UP! YEAH! HA-HAA...";) wait up. |
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And all the fellas go, 'Yeah, yeah, yeah.' |
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And all my ladies go, 'Uh, uh, uh.' |
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And all the fellas go, 'Yeah, yeah, yeah.' |
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And all the ladies go, 'Uh, uh, uh.' |
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Fellas go, 'Where you at?' |
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Ladies go, 'Yo, come back!' |
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Fellas go...ladies go... |
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Fellas go...ladies...yo... |
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A mellow disposition even when it's pain |
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Your mental ammunition is faulty wit' a drain |
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I puts it down, Lord, Fuck a mic cord |
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Brother's out of his game so we can see tours |
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The innovator - your man still a hater |
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The Abstract imprint, it stays like a Smint |
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I got the masses cold, wigglin' and shakin' they ass |
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Ma, you betta get involved and do it real fast |
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(Beeping starts again but with instrumental backing it) |