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(feat. Planet Asia, Rasco, Chops & DJ Revolution) |
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(Bahamadia) |
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Poems stay calm, approachin it |
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They be flop and over it |
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Back on my feet just like I'm 'posed to get (Yeah!) |
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Livin up, I tell it y'all totin chicks |
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You ain't really hot, you just image and politics |
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The total type, y'all duplicates and male affiliates |
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Soundin the silliest, doin renditions of hits like Al Yankovic |
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I never been, kept it in suspense like a scene outta Scream legacy |
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Like Marcia Jones, I'm reppin for queens |
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Doin royal things, lock em down for offspring |
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Whole team be a bunch of backpackers and mic fiends |
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We all first string, spittin them jewels that bling bling |
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And when I hit mainstream, y'all niggas can bite me |
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(Cuts by DJ Revolution) |
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"Live and direct" (Kool G Rap) "Yeah" |
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"We takin over |
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"Live and direct" "Yeah" |
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"We move like the special forces, green beret" (Prodigy) |
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"Live and direct" "Yeah" |
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"That's the reason why none of y'all can't compete" (Big Daddy Kane) |
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(Planet Asia) |
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Aiyyo these is ghetto-bound scripts |
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For pseudo MC's to breathe off of |
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I vaporize tracks like mentalyptis with active ingredients |
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Comin straight from the Yardie |
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My click rolls thicker than the Black Panther party |
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Up next for Generation X |
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Most of these rap cats is barely fresh |
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And when they carry me, they gon' bury me wit a mic on my chest |
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Wit a wide crowd lookin |
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But for now, these mic minerals is Ital cookings |
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Gettin seasoned on, we carry blades of various shapes |
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For the crates and CD's, and those still married to tapes |
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Bahama-d up in the spot wit Cali Agents and Chops |
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For all you big shots that thought you had this rap game locked |
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(Rasco) |
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Man forget about it |
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Whenever we got beef, nigga we spit about it |
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Get in the stands and swing hands |
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You better change the plans, it's not goin down like that |
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You in this game wit some serious cats |
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Perhaps we could adapt to those that spit flows |
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Keepin them on they toes |
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Hopin it don't come to blows |
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Cuz if it come to that then we layin em flat |
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I hit these niggas so hard you think I'm sprayin a gat |
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We at, these MC's never smokin the trees |
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I think on the blink off some serious drinks |
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Fresh dipped wit some serious links, we make cash |
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Put my foot on the gas and smooth rip a nigga's ass |
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"Live and direct" "Yeah" "We takin over" |
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"Live and direct" "Yeah" |
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"We move like the special forces, green beret" |
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"Live and direct" "Yeah" |
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"My troops roll up wit a strange force" (Nas) |
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(Chops) |
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Chops pedigree, heavily drop rock readily |
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Hip hop peep sleep brevely |
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Call form assembly |
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Genetically, neither ivory nor ebony |
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Rather imbalanced chemically, talents are tendencies |
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Towards supremecy, ask not like John Kennedy |
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Who made your ass hot, remember me |
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See the cause of the blaze |
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Lost in the maze, Frankie Beverly |
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While you dab your face wit the hankie tenderly |
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Intricately weed, the steady medley |
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Along wit these 3 MC's, combine rhymes to the end degree |
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Flows overload your sensory, so you can thank me regretfully |
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With ease, can breathe from these procedures |
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Leave a blank in your memory what! |
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"Live and direct" "Yeah" (x2) |
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"We move like the special forces, green beret" |
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"Live and direct" "Yeah" (x2) |
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"None of y'all can't compete" |
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"Live and direct" "Yeah" (x2) |
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"None of y'all can't compete" |
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"Live and direct |