| My off the hook look, leaves my competitors shook
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| No matter what groups you book, I still jam like Sam Cooke
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| Took a whole click out, and had the soundman flippin
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| Kickin wicked freestyle to shit on niggas with the writtens
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| Check my computer type graphics, niggas get they ass kicked
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| Quick if they try to flip like ashes, I’m
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| Never passive, as is, yo you see the flow yo what happened
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| Check out them niggas rappin
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| The clap of the crowd be showin me love like Cupid
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| Loop it back, shit slams like I dished off to Shaq
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| My crew stay strapped with battle raps on cap
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| We ready to clap on chaps who make up half you sucker rap acts
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| I’m intact with facts, MC’s can’t compete with these treats
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| And Shawn J P. with the beats, unleash
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| Talents, balance, styles extra-ordinary
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| With the vocabulary, no other buries
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| We know schematics on rapper’s theatrics
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| Only a few can freak status
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| Artifacts Technique Can freak from here to Dallas, leavin you to clean up
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| Like Alice, shit’s thick like smoke from out the chalice
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| The weak we em-barr-ass, showin no pity on your city
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| We either play you live or have you taped in like MIDI (who)
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| The Brick City Committee comin through a nigga soundset
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| This round’s for all our niggas that didn’t get down yet
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| Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
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| From off the back of the bus, the 31 Bumrush
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| Crews we breeze through, you don’t know, you need to
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| Tell the soundman, don’t touch nothin but the EQ
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| Deafenin, lethal weapon steppin with the props
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| Seekin through your sale racks and peepin all mall cops
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| In to win, tall like, Paul Bunyan, the bass line’s drummin
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| Meanin that the Notty Headed Nigguz comin
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| Lights, camera! |
| Act like you wanna bring the dra-ma
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| I make it hotter than all of Atlanta, ready to act up
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| My Hooterville upbringin is swingin upon ya son
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| Gunnin for your under the name of Tame One
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| Yo, eyes focused, lips ready to toke it
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| You’ll choke on my skit, your dilemma is to quit
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| Flip scripts, who’s the winner takin out all beginners
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| In an instant, my style’s polished and stain resistant
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| The E&J sipper blunt ripper nigga flips your bitch ass
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| With better effects, we go to war like George Lu-cas
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| Toucan Sam and we be the Mister Man simply put
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| Your twelve inch could barely make a foot
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| We got bombs, my momma told me no when I was younger
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| But I told her, «I don’t cry on no shoulders I’m a soldier»
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| Let me show ya, how we can rock a crowd like Ayatollah
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| Check the folder (here we go check it out right now)
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| Now you got the scoop, check the Guess troop low
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| On the chest, niggas still use the word fresh blessed
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| You see the structure, builder, constructer
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| Bust a, nother with the skills that I muster
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| Up touche you check the rhyme forte
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| Artifacts, Tame One, and MC El the Sensai |