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Lyrically versatile |
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My rap definition is wild |
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I wrote graffiti as a juvenile |
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Restin on deuce trey |
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And used to boost gray |
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Kangol's with 555 |
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Soul's from the streets of the |
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Ill-a-delphiadaic insane |
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For monetary gain, niggaz is slain on the train |
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It's homicide |
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For wealth stealth missions for crack |
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In the alleyways, where niggaz get grazed in the back |
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From stray shots |
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Clips with hollow tips, for your spine or |
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Either remain calm, catch a rhyme, to your mind |
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Niggaz ya know my style |
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I run a--motherfuckin-rap--muk |
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When Malik get a |
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U-Haul truck |
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I stand five, foot seven, in command of the party and scam like |
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Uncle Sam |
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I'm never caught up in the glass eye of your action cam, cause |
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I'm down low |
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Artistic exquisite rap pro, that get the dough |
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It's the Philly borough dread thoroughbread for dolo |
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I bag solo, like a nigga that boost |
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Polo Steppin through the corridor, of metaphors |
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Lookin over my left |
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Shoulder the mic, still feel colder than before |
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With this jazz shit |
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I hit your jaw |
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Dice Raw, get up on the mic, my young poor |
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I be the nigga blowin up the spot on tour |
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Surely real to the core, old school like eighty-four |
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I never die, and raps till my lungs collapse |
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Then relax until my knack for tracks |
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Bring it back, on time |
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When I rhyme my rep remain |
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Either go against the grain or your ass is found slain |
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I overcome, niggaz want styles then |
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I throw you some |
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Show you some, get on the mic and take it over son |
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Dice Raw, the motherfuckin |
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Wild Noid |
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Get on the mic and perpetratin is void [Verse Two: Dice Raw] |
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Ya leave niggaz missin in action like their dads in the projects |
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My style like an old mac, travel round and catch wreck |
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I'm ill versatile, with the skill no more |
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Wack MC's wanna flex but their styles they bore |
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Got to know the real meaning of the ill shit, kid |
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I do mad damage but never will catch a bid |
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With my knapsack, full of ill shit that |
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I just boosted |
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From the corner store when |
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I let loose more |
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Flavor that's me, rippin heads off from the seams |
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Niggaz didn't play like |
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Jeru and Come |
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Clean [he heh ha ha ha] |
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I beat down on they heads like drum machines |
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Or 808's cause my style flows out great |
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And superspectac, with all the raw rap |
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Pull a metal chair out my knapsack across your back ka-crack |
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Now do you feel the pain of course |
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I guess you're believin that |
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I'm insane |
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When I'm taggin my name, upon the train |
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I got so much pride |
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I got so much soul, with lyrics high |
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To make niggaz stop drop and roll, now check me out one time |
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For your ass, fat styles equivalent of an |
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AIDS infected |
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Glock blast |
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Niggaz know my style, plus they know they want more |
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Props from |
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Mount Vernon, to |
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Mount Rushmore |
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OK kid, you know my style is buckwild literature |
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That you can never get when |
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I'm thinkin your particular flavor that you want |
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I sit back and smoke a fat blunt in class |
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Teachers can kiss my ass, |
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I'm twice, |
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Dice Nigga de |
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Raw, never take a bad fall |
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Smack your head up against the wall |
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Like playin handball, my style's ill |
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I slam like |
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Hulk Hogan, |
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Dice Raw bettin on my arm |
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Niggaz know my slogan while |
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I breathe your last breath |
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Niggaz better watch they step, fat bull catch wreck |
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Ill, gots ta keep you in check |
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With the hellified beats and hard rhymes |
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Niggaz know my style, when |
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I go the whole nine |
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I beat down punks, cut em up into fruit chunks |
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Like fruit salad, my style's smooth like white owl |
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Blunts, so whatcha want if you got beef then come get it if ya don't well then forget it |
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My rap style's exquisite, |
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I'm Raw Daddy |
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Like niggaz with no |
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Trojans on the stage when |
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I rhyme I gots ta keep, my composure |
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Where I'm from it's like a whole different world |
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Hoppin a train honeydip and |
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I'ma snatch your squirrel |
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Most corrupt, motherfucker in the tenth grade |
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Juvenile cause |
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Jeff McKay could not fade |
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Don't ask me honey |
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I'm not the one for stressin |
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If you wanna know better ask |
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BR.O.Th.E. |
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R ? Cause he know the time like |
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I know the time |
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When I grab the microphone |
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It's like, summertime, laid back, to recline |
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In my La-Z- |
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Boy chair |
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Dice Raw, the |
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Wild Noid |
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I'm the fuck up outta here |