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作曲 : Blake, Clinton, Collins ... |
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(feat. Busta Rhymes) |
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[Busta R.] Flipmode, Boot Camp, alliance official |
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[Buckshot] ************t hit your chest like sess |
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[Busta R.] Each and every time |
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(Whattup ******?) Yeah whattup ******? |
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(Y'all ******z chillin?) The Sun don't chill ****** |
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[Buckshot] Hate y'all little ******z |
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Listen to this right here mother****** what? |
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[Buckshot] Knahmsayin, ************t be kinda close |
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Hittin you up with some real ************t, feel this ****** |
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[Buckshot] |
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Buck spread love like the Pope, but I never spread false hope |
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I bring the bomb squad close, rock you with a dose |
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of TNT, ******z ain't believe in me? |
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I'm comin back for all them ******z who be thievin me |
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I'm incredible, also edible |
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Rock it in the stage show, see me in the interview |
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Wanna be worldwide, but you can't ****** with I |
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You try, you die; don't deny the fact that you got your back |
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blown by binoculars, the way I'm rockin ya |
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and drop-toppin ya, dough low go for dolo in Cali |
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All my Outlawz form a rally and we _Bomb First_ ****** |
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Pull the trigga, see what happen if you hestitate |
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and cut yoour blood supply short |
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The bloodsport, the mother****** onslaught |
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[CHORUS: Busta Rhymes] |
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Yo, now in the onslaught, y'all ******z got caught |
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Now we can run a full court all in a bloodsport |
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And while we hold the fort, cut ya like live shorts |
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Feel the pressure burn a ****** like a Newport! |
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[Buckshot] |
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Comin for you |
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I used to sit back, and let a lot of ************t |
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get to my head, wanted to dead a lot of ************t |
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A lot of fake ******z, frontin in the game with |
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a little record deal but still drive the same whip |
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Damn shame ain't it? The vision that they show you |
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in they videos'll make you think them ******z moved out the ghetto |
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Oh? Don't get me wrong, I ain't tryin to stay |
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But ************t, at the same time I ain't tryin to run away |
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A lot of family is left behind |
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A lot of my ******z is left to grind, some still do crime |
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Some do time, but, no matter what |
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None of my ******z keep an empty shell inside the nine |
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******back, ****** up the Evil Dee track and make the mind react |
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Smoke a phat one listen to Buck and get black |
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As a matter of fact |
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Even if you don't smoke you can feel the contact |
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[CHORUS] |
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[Buckshot] |
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Comin for you |
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Jump through the window to your rescue I guess you |
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heard the rest do, all that rap ************t but in fact it |
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sounded kinda good until I let you hear this phat ************t |
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You lack ************t, ****** track this |
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Record this, oh my lord this is the warnin sign for y'all |
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B.D. wann ball; is you feelin me? Let me know somethin |
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And if you see me lookin sober, let me smoke somethin |
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Pump it up like D, film me like Spike Lee |
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Bodycount like Ice-T, do it nicely |
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Nice to see, that ****** Buck..shot .. rappin |
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****** it, I'ma make it happen |
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All my ******z stick to gunclappin, don't change |
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From my street ******z up to my ****** Starang |
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Bang bang ******, can you hang, ******? |
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It's your fault you got caught in the rain, ****** |
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[CHORUS] |