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Mass distortion the amps are screaming |
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Pandemonium in the B-Boy Kingdom |
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Destroy and sting 'em venemous sharp tip |
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Feeling his pen strokes |
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For women and men folk |
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Ab's recording for bastard orphans |
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All homes is broken life's in your hands |
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Don't let the moment stifle your plans |
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God bless the homeless no one supports them |
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Puffin' Alaskan or maybe some Oregon |
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Feel the wrath of Scorpion to your misfortune |
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Set the torches, my last one scorched 'em |
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Now they back for more of this natural order |
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'Stract is sort of addictive on ya |
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Strong as a prescription for some pure ganja |
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Code of Honor and secret holdin' |
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From the oldest shamen to youngest, quote it in |
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[chorus] |
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Warriors, come out to play-ee-ay-ee-ay (Where my warriors at? Where my warriors at?) |
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With swords and shields and guns and knives |
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With pens and pads turntables mics we're |
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Warriors, come out to play-ee-ay-ee-ay (Where my warriors at? Where my warriors at?) |
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With chains and bats brass knuckles pipes |
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With rhymes I write that can shed some light on this |
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Mass confusion the spotlight beaming |
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Trip like illusions in colliseums |
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My contribution will fry their braincells |
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Blaze a tight rhyme now it's time to raise hell |
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We come with the bomb and best cuts |
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And when the show's over your hair is messed up like |
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Mass distortion grabbin' the porcelain |
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Drunk too much gin throw it back up nauseous |
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Cautious, do not drink too much nightly don't know |
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When my last day here might be |
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Rights of passage, life's a math test |
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Add up your successes and losses clashes |
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With arch-rivals, we tribal |
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My whole discography's a Bible |
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Don't bite your idols |
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Won't play high-post |
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But when I sleep it's only one eye closed, niggas |
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[chorus] |