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(feat. Pete Rock) |
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[Intro: Pete Rock] |
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"Can you hear me say it?" Everybody in the rap world today. Pull up a chair |
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And parlay (word up). It's Extra P and Pete Rock (yeah) we got something to |
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Say (what?). Comin' at cha with the rapture (you know) for the nine double |
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Trey (c'mon) how we do e'ryday (knowhatI'msayin'?), Bust the flava. "Can |
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You hear me say it?" |
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[Pete Rock:] |
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I represent from the east coast bringing the ruckus |
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Styles lost so from the mic you get tossed |
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Penetrating through your soul son taking drastic measures |
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Striving for buring treasures living life forever |
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However the Soul Brother still doing his thing |
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Bout to get you wide open off the songs that we sing |
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You fiend from Mt. Vernon to Queens the Extra P |
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About to set up shop and drop his next degree nigga |
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[Large Professor (Extra P):] |
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Yo, I brake it down unto the very last morsel |
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Make you shake your torso |
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Also |
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To bring in the light to what's dark like a nark on a drug bust |
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Niggas know the deal when I thrust |
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Over the track ain't actin' masquerade and get sprayed |
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By the automatic |
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Rhyme addict that gets dramatic |
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When the beast is ill you know the real really will |
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C'mon kid listen how we swing it like a krill |
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[Hook:] |
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"In the world" We got drugs and crime |
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"In the world" We got snitch droppin' dime |
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"In the world" We got money and clothes |
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"In the world" You got friends and foes |
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"In the world" Theres projects and tecs |
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"In the world" Kid who knows what's next |
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"In the world" You got love and hate |
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"In the world" We got money to make |
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[Large Professor (Extra P):] |
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C'mon the loaded Sp's the ensemble |
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Pete Rock together with Large the bomb combo |
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We raise the stakes on flakes and rock the show |
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Flipmaster mania son we got to go to the top and won't stop |
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Flop or fold wheather cop a gold or plat |
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They hit the map |
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In every section tag team connection wide |
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Gettin' hot on each track we glide |
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[Pete Rock:] |
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Yo the beat got me twisted rhymes are too delicious (huh) |
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You look suspicious you wanna bite but can't grip it |
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Recognize the flav as we lay it on wax |
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Crime dogs of the funk and never Fakin' no Jax |
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But for the record look on your face you see rejection |
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It's hard to believe I liquidated every section |
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Let's Get It On like Smif 'N' Wessun |
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Or don't even look in my direction |
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[Hook] |
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[Pete Rock:] |
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We throw blows to the dome like Mike Tyson |
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Suspend your rap license |
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Kid bring on the cake plus the icing |
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Raw deal to all my niggas who keep it real |
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One love we fittin' like a hand in glove |
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(Yo shit is drug son) Even hardcore for the thugs |
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From east to west it's time to rise up above |
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And build so blacks can chill I make cash at will |
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The rap world is how I eat my meals |
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[Large Professor (Extra P):] |
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So here's the jist it's the high top crisp |
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Funk dons |
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Comin' through to knock out Nas |
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In this orderly fashion |
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Straight up to fuck flashin' (what?) |
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My capability to bring the uncut action |
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To any set be the Queens lounge vet |
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Large so dodge a camouflage cause you're pet |
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Competition is no I got the glow so yo |
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I'm truely in the world to stay the Large Pro |
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[Hook] |