| What the fuck you wanna do?
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| What the fuck you wanna do?
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| What the fuck you wanna do?
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| What the fuck you wanna do?
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| Yo, honey dip in the whip, I don’t walk with no limp
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| But I’m still a pimp… psyche, I’m kiddin'
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| Pay attention to the darts that’s Hidden
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| Like the Crouching Tiger, shout out to the dreads, more fire, more fire
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| My music is more mental like the «Eye of the Tiger»
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| You’ve seen me in NYC with Tatiyana Ali
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| She chauffeured me, in a blue Lamborghini
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| Shout out to my enemies, oh shit, Jesus Christ
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| I’m so nice, you Old Spice
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| Me and my niggas, roll up like dice
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| Takin' ya ice then feed ya to the mice
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| You’s a rat, where’s ya gat?
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| Where I rest at, even the best get test, black
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| Five Fingers of Death, throw ya hands in the air and swing 'em to the left
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| However you want it I can give it, long live my spirit
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| Even if you can’t hear it, I’ma make you «Feel It»
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| Like a gunshot wound when the bullet hits
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| Blood spilled in this shit, somebody call the ambulance for son, I’m on the run
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| Comin' from all kinds of fuckin' angles on y’all niggas, man
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| Yo, Terrorist, Terrorist, Terrorist, here I come…
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| Iced the bezzle, canary specs made my face yellow
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| Ya jigglin', baby, J-E-L-L-O
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| Niggas see I’m black and white like Othello
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| I’m in Living Color, brother, lyrics lay Heavy on the Mental
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| And come with full benefits, medical and dental
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| I’ve got pink slips for it all, no rentals
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| Get the fuck from 'round here, who the fuck sent you?
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| These Boys are Bad like they’re Martin and Will
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| Killarmy like this is the drill, you heard the rest?
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| But this is for real, no denying, just rapid fire from the black iron
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| Still number one on the under, I heard he came with the thunder
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| Word spread, makes niggas wonder
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| He’s a hustler slash gunner, alcoholic rum runner
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| And a One Man Army overall, one bad motherfucker
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| Like Terrorist shit… |