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You wanna front what? Jump up and get bucked |
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If you're feeling lucky duck then press your luck |
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I snatch fake gangsta MC's and make 'em fagot flambes |
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Your nine spray my mind spray |
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Malignant mist steadily pumps the funk |
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The results you're a gang stuffed in a car trunk |
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You couldn't come to the jungles of the East poppin' that game |
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You won't survive get live catchin' wreck is our thing |
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I don't gang bang or shoot out bang, bang |
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The relentless lyrics the only dope I slang |
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I'm a true master you can check my credentials |
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'Cuz I choose to use my infinite potentials |
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Got a freaky, freaky, freaky, freaky flow |
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Control the mic like Fidel Castro locked Cuba |
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So deep that you can scuba dive my jive |
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Origin is unknown like the Judas |
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I've accumulated honies all across the map |
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'Cuz I'd rather bust a nut then bust a cap in |
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Ya back in fact my rap snaps ya sacroiliac |
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I'm the mack so I don't need to tote a Mac |
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My attack is purely mental and its nature's not hate |
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It's meant to wake ya up out of ya brainwashed state |
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Stagnate nonsense but if you persist |
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You'll get ya snot box bust you press up on this |
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I flip hoes dip none of the real niggas slip |
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You don't know enough math to count the mics that I ripped |
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Keep the Dirty Rotten Scoundrel as his verbal weapons spit |
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Real rough and rugged, shine like a gold nugget |
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Every time I pick up the microphone I drug it |
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Unplug it on chumps with the gangsta babble |
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Leave your nines at home and bring your skills to the battle |
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You're rattlin' on and on and ain't sayin' nothing |
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That's why you got snuffed when you bump heads with Dirty Rotten |
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Have you forgotten, I'll tap you jaw |
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I also kick like kung fu flicks by run run shaw |
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Made frauds bleed every time I g'd |
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'Cuz I've perfected my drunken style like Sam seed |
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Pseudo psychos I play like Michael |
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Jackson when I'm bustin' ass and breakin' backs |
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Inhale the petrified aroma |
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Breathe too deep and you'll wind up coma |
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Toes the king I'm hard like a fifth of vodka |
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And bring your clique 'cuz I'm a hard rock knock a |
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I gotcha, out on a limb I'm about to push you off the brink |
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Let you draw your craw but you burnin' shot breaks |
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When the East is in the house you should come equipped |
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Fly like a jet sting like a hornet |
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Knuckleheads get live and set it off if you want it |
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Dirty rotten scoundrels is crushin' fools no joke |
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With styles more fatal than second hand smoke |
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Don't provoke the wrath of this rhyme inventor |
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'Cuz I blow up spots like the world trade center |
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Come with the super trooper on his assault mission |
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The tench's technique 'cuz he's a technician |
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Wishin' he'll go away won't help the weapons stop |
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The skills are shot 'cuz any idiot can let off a glock |
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Hard rock smellin' the clutch of this untouchable |
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You claim you got beef on the streets so whatcha |
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Gonna do when real niggaz roll up on you |
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And you don't got your crew |
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Pull your glock but you don't got the heart |
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You was webbed straight from the start |
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Bought a tool and didn't learn how to use it |
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Got lost in Brooklyn so you had to lose it |
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Just for frontin' you got that ass waxed |