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HAHAHAHAHAHAH! |
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[Verse One: Lil' Fame] |
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Yo - feel the First Family energy (alright!) Remember me? |
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Lil' Fame raps niggaz to tunes of Kenny G |
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I compose the rugged, I woulda written yo' shit too |
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But you ain't got enough money in your budget, dude fuck it! |
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Step up and get your whole band slaughtered |
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You ain't got the raw plus you twenty gram shorter |
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M.O.P. ban orders, I show you niggaz "Faces of Death" |
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Manslaughter, live on a camcorder |
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My solution is pollute innards, quick to shoot a bitch |
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I'm bugged like the Y2K computer glitch |
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I bring the hardcore for soldiers that got war |
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And the thugs in the crowd screaming ("Yeah we like it raw!") |
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On wax they get the best of it (right) give 'em the rest of it |
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Saluting on tour, autographin bitches' breasteses |
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It's the legendary M.O.P. |
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We put it down everywhere we go - but you don't hear me though |
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[Chorus x2] |
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Stand clear! |
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Notice ain't nuttin but soldiers up in here - ride for the cause! |
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Heavy metal shit, quick, grip settle it |
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BITCH! Die for the drawers |
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[Verse Two: Billy Danze] |
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It's elementary, for a quarter of a century |
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In and outta penitentiaries |
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I survive - I am a survivor G |
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Got more slick shit with me than McGyver see |
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I'm your rivalry, cousin ride with me |
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I'm the international cat that you tryna be |
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I am (WILLIAM) William (WILLIAM) William (WILLIAM) yes ma'am |
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When I'm in a G-man stand it's impossible to touch Danze |
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I got a deranged temper, with a short fuse |
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I don't know what you thought but you gon' lose |
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I'm bad news; Satan turned me loose |
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Since Tupac got popped, who the fuck you think got the +Juice+? |
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Bill Danze (do it for your people!) |
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I got automatics {*CRACK*} that will fuck up your ego |
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In fact - claim turf, whenever the llama spark |
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We hold down Brownsville like the motherfuckin Tomahawks |
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[Chorus] |
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[Verse Three: Lil' Fame] |
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I smack a "Oops Upside Ya Head" |
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Like Goldy when he mackin his broads (it's) your maveranage |
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Watch who you approach nigga, 'fore you get smoked nigga |
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I'm O.G. in this game, coach nigga! |
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Straight loc' nigga, what the fuck you thought? |
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You get caught in the middle, try to dribble on my court |
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When niggaz (act sweet) this nigga (clap heat) |
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Jack you when you wouldn't put your brains in the backseat |
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[Verse Four: Billy Danze] |
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I'ma give you twenty-two seconds to explain to me |
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Why the fuck you playin games with me? |
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Make a nigga dust off his automatic, and bang witchu young kids |
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(Is it really Billy Danze?) Who the fuck you think it is? |
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By the law of the street, the best way to track his ass |
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Is to catch his ass (wet his ass) and to jack his ass |
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You ain't untouchable nigga for what it's worth |
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I'm the gritties grimiest slimiest nigga on earth |
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[Chorus] |
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[laughter and ad libs to fade] |