| Yo I ain’t afraid of shit, I don’t even pretend
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| I be flippin' God off through his microscope lens
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| This asshole supreme and his violent friends
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| Closest we came to peace signs is drivin' a Benz
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| This is hip-hop that overloads amps and speaker boxes
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| For muthafuckas' rooms that cluttered with sneaker boxes
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| Tongue ring bitches who be sneakin' our oxes
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| In the club where security decreases the options
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| 'Cause Ap is like William Blake, but filled with hate
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| Who broke open his brain to let the skills escape
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| It’s like silicon tits to porno chicks
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| I could flow on 'till Voltron’s torso splits
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| I supply, multiply like Gordo’s chips
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| I’m a He-Man, and y’all are on some Orko shit
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| Gold BBS rims on a Saab with the stop sign
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| '87 status radio show dock nine
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| Connecticut veteran, better than ever before
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| Handprints embedded in metal of mics I tore
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| In half with half a paragraph, skin grafts needed
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| It’s equivalent to starin' in the sun when tryin' to read it
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| Y’all wanna get defeated, that’s a personal decision
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| But I’m cuttin' muthafuckas up with surgical precision
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| A legend in the making, the last of a dyin' breed
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| Y’all are newjacks, probably get shook when buyin' weed
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| You’re MySpace gangstas, with guns in pictures
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| I’ll slap your face and tongue fuck your sisters
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| For this next one, you gotta be sharp so listen:
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| I’ll hit you in the head like turbulence when you pissin' (Phenomenal!)
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| Cash I stack’s astronomical
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| Nikes and pricey Pisces astrological
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| Ap’s wifey’s a fat ass Aphrodite
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| That badass bastard that spaz out like hyphey
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| Hand out like Heisman Trophies
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| Approach me and your homies are pourin' out fo'-ties of OE
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| I’m playin «Time's Up"by O. C
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| Sellin O-Z's and O-C's to kids in the OC
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| Hate authority from P.O.'s to C.O.'s
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| 'Cause we know, we see those, and we ain’t seein' no dough
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| So play the low, slow it down, make paper, through it around
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| I’ma have a lot of fun before I go underground
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| 'Fore my spirit speeds through space and punctures the sun
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| I’ll be keepin' heaven 'fore a muthafucker should run
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| I ain’t frontin' like I’m runnin' 'round with hundreds of guns
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| But just watch, got an ox hidden under my tongue, son
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| MTV just got Sucker Free Sundays
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| I’m sucker free 365, not one day
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| You average little cornball phony ho model
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| Y’all ain’t think, you’re more like a Rosie O’Donnell
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| I’m dyin' for rappers to stop glorifyin' diamonds
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| 'Cause wannabes are rhymin' 'bout 'em when they never buy 'em
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| Dude’s swear they poppin' but the labels never sign 'em
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| It appears that materialism is what defines 'em
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| Let’s fast forward ten years to see where we find 'em
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| It’s hard to focus vision when them hater blockers blind 'em
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| It’s hard to disagree when they know that I’m right
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| Don’t know what it’s like? |
| I stick it in your sister every night |