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I'm "Out For Justice" like Steven Seagal, so y'all bust this |
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You know I come with a swing I swing it smooth with roughness |
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Me and the Rascals, yeah that's the right hand to me |
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Like Archie Bunker we keep it "All in the Family" |
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You George Michael, a monkey's on your back |
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So relax, I got wild stacks of raps you can't match |
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Bigger and badder don't matter you can't get with |
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The Kid like Billy who's nastier than Caligula |
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So say hey HEY I come around quick |
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And got everything covered like a condom on a dick |
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I slow it down a bit, but I get real still |
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To the point and very short like I'm Bushwick Bill |
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To you and sooner or later I say real soon |
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Bang zoom, like "Honeymooners" right a mental to the moon |
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So don't hand me that mammy about a Grammy |
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Youse a cracker like a cinnamon graham, clap your hands |
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[Pudgee] |
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I'm not a fan of soap operas but I'll be your "Guiding Light" |
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Not a country singer but I +Yoakam+ like +Dwight+ |
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From the streets y'all makin I think you should be takin notes |
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For the simple fact you're "Out of Touch" like Hall & Oates |
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Many places I've been many things I did |
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From "The Jeffersons" to "227" along with Marla Gibbs |
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Now I'm in the game yes the fame I had to have it |
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To make musical magic for all of the demographics |
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Take your pick I make these for those who cannot stand me |
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Lyrically I'm burnin kids like the swiss nanny |
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If beef is what you're lookin for then say so |
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You better bring more niggaz than Hammer does to a stage show |
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Approach me in public and you're as good as dead |
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And if I let you survive, you're wearin wooden legs |
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No shame in the game, I'm the kid and like Evelyn Champagne |
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Damn, clap your hands |
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[Pudgee] |
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You're gettin two choices life or death which one do you choose |
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Move your pelvis like Elvis, "Blue Suede Shoes" |
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Or be a part of the lives I've rocked |
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The jailhouse rock, cause I clock, in every state on every block |
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I got the crew for your existance to be erased |
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But you couldn't get drink if I threw it at you in your face |
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Charles Bronson, "Death Wish", try if you wanna die |
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But you don't know that I'ma break you up just like Guy |
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You know the rhymer so it's best to be on your guard |
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I leave you hangin like your girl when your joint ain't hard |
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And next time your people see me at a jam |
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In memory of your loss they'll clap their hands |