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(Intro: Tino Vega) |
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Yeah, I like this one, yeah |
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Yo, Celph, Apathy and Tino Vega, yo |
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Unnh hunh (Set it on him like that) |
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Tampa Florida, baby yeah |
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(Verse 1: Tino Vega) |
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Ay, yo, pass me a hat about these black ashes |
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Be out as fast as I can your man got bodied |
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In the back of a stolen Ac, |
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By black trash baggers, what’s going on |
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Nowadays we got gay rappers |
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Singing our songs and hearing me wrong |
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Till they repping it strong baby, all day long |
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Cliques rapping about making moves |
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Playing it calm climbing up Jacobs ladder |
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See a mill and we on |
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What hold down fort, you thought wrong |
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Blood sport, loud in the place, I’m loud in your face |
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Sirens mad loud when they chase |
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Sick of them jakes, I want to put sticks in they steaks, yo |
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Walkman through sales, you caught attacking them stakes |
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Keep dropping the hot *************t for the payers to hate, you know |
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So fell me, if not, I don’t care, throw your girls panties in the air |
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That’s how we on the keep, flaunting them drawers |
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We’re going to pawn them |
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Your man keep talking that spit, I’m going to dog him |
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Got dreams of marrying a Latin chick, a rapper ************* from Harlem |
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You can ask the surfer dudes and hippies if I’m awesome |
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Yo, back up off him this *************s too hot, run in your spot |
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Leaving with everything you got |
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Don’t believe me best not, put the stress on the dreadlocks |
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*************s get props, lick 10 shots for hip hop |
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What, what? Bring it on, you don’t want it, what |
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(Verse 2: Celph Titled) |
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Yo, unh, yo |
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I don’t get no iller than Celph Titled |
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For God sakes |
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We move in silence except for the sound |
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The glock makes |
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Where I’m from, we never name names |
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We just be pointing infrared beams |
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And watch the barrel start to spit flames |
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Insane from birth, flip game with words |
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Inflict pain and it hurts |
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In actuality, I’m know astronomically |
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Leave a mother ****** split in half |
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I heard you talking this and that |
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We taking no shorts like church dress codes |
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I need a ************* that’ll stash my guns inside of casseroles |
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Test my gangster and the outcome is straight A’s |
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Bullet holes from AKs, wounds bleeding for eight days |
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It’s kind of ****** up how we some raw *************s |
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That’ll spit some hardcore *************t over beats like this |
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I must be out my ******g mind without a doubt |
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My fam keep it gorilla with banana clips |
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We let the monkey out ************* |
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(Verse 3: Apathy) |
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Yeah, unh unh unh, what |
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Yeah, me and your girl will take a walk through the park |
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Late night in the dark, I’ll caress the back of her neck |
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Then rip out her heart, sharp mentality |
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Apathy grips gats, spits raps ************* slaps chicks back |
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I’m funky chewing tic tacs cause after I eat flesh |
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My breath smells like death |
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After I ************* chicks, their breath smells like sweat |
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I’ll lock it down, ****** the pound |
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Be careful who you talk around |
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Cops found another mic to draw the white chalk around |
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And while you small cats are trying to bust off gats |
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I got to wreck it over records, so I dust off wax |
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Ap, Celph and Tino can slam it like we’re Tino Santana |
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From Tampa Bay to CT my gamma rays change my brain |
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Like Lou Ferrigno, I’ll spit flows to rip shows and get dough |
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I’ll stick hos who lick ************* until it blows |
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I’ll hit Foes the clip goes and gats, you’ll never test Ap |
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So just put away your raps, you’re wack |