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(This is a test) |
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Verse One: |
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Too many sounds irritate my earholes |
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like Planet Rock beats from L.A. hoes |
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The same old thing same ol shit I'm tired |
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Was once on the payroll about to be fired |
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Black radio shame, pop rap's to blame |
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Program your playlist to sound the same |
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With a disco tempo, cliche intro |
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Wack rap tracks for commercial shows |
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Mindless music for the masses has to take |
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time away from the REAL rap master |
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So I stay cool for community airplay |
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while ratings slip for the shit that you play |
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This is a test a lesson to be observed |
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No wack rhymes are heard I keep on raising the curve |
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Back and forth I never stick em soft I just run it |
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Punks'll shun it, gangs keep their girlies on it |
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Paris is the dog, much doper than morphine |
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Sick with the style so you can say you've seen |
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The radical magical man, master of master plan |
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So smooth from beginning to end |
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This is a test, back it up when I'm in the place |
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and all hail to the dog with the righteous bass |
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The boss I come across rough on your radiowave |
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Terror on two track whenever I'm played |
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Punks keep steppin that's the reason why I |
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come through sicker than a L.A. driveby |
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By droppin bombs in songs y'all keep singin along |
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So smooth it couldn't never go wrong |
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This is a test |
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Verse Two: |
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Yo dig |
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When you buy a rap record do you buy it for dance moves |
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Or do you buy rap cause the lyrics are smooth |
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Cuz if you wanna dance you should stick with the other one |
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and leave the dog alone till the dancin is done |
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But then when you're ready for the brother who leads |
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and feeds all rap lovers with rhymes like these |
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I dish a little taste of the bass of Scarface |
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and paste a rhyme space to chase the weak-kneed |
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Cuz I don't play - well my name ain't (Cool J) (backwards) |
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I ain't TC, or N-W-A |
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I'm Paris, the asiatic lord of light |
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With the power to fight and write rhymes to stay |
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Cuz I'm hotter than lava when I be up on a microphone |
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By now you should know it the poet doper than most |
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By dispensing of ignorance how I'm keeping the wack down |
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You enter to the realm of the Scarface sound |
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This is a test |