| It’s the message in the song that makes you rock on
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| Some people go to places where they don’t belong
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| Whether wrong or right, a lot of people fight
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| But I’m here to bless this mic, aight?
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| I take action the minute that the crowd gets hype
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| I’m type crashin, down like a meteorite
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| I’m Bogart-ing, mics and whole stages
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| Destroying MC’s dreams, from words to whole pages
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| Their rapbooks, look more like scrapbooks
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| With their fictional fairytales and frail ass hooks
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| A lot of shit has happened, since I started rappin
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| There’s been enough beef, and enough gat clappin
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| There’s been mad signs, for this brother to heed
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| And while some choose greed, I choose to plant seeds
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| For your mental, spirit and physical temple
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| Bob your head to it, there’s the water you’ve been lead to it
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| Bathe in it, a long time you’ve been cravin it
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| Prance to it, use your third eye and glance through it
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| Your state of being, becoming advanced through it
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| While others rhyme with no reason I be breezin
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| Their mics I seize them, then I try em for treason
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| I used to always like to hang out
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| Now I lounge in the rest writin bombs while tracks bang out
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| I know you peeped me in the club then
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| But now I’m in your speaker, with the voice that you’re lovin
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| It’s the message in the song that makes you rock on
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| Some people go to places where they don’t belong
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| Whether wrong or right, a lot of people fight
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| But I’m here to bless this mic, aight?
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| Peace to the young ladies, who wanna bone me much
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| And peace to my nigga Premier, with the golden touch
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| I never fall off point, like DeNiro in Casino
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| Peace to Black Gambinos and all my peoples
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| Dig the steelo, I’m fightin' wars you know
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| As in the Jihad, most humble, most merciful
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| That’s because I be God, I trog through fogs, puffing logs
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| MC’s muttering menial madness, they get marred
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| Scarred and barred, and then, banished from my fuckin' kingdom
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| You got a fly one bring one, or else I come to fling some
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| Exquisite exotic exciting type shit
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| Enough to make the real heads wake up and get hype quick
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| I’m type slick, known as the God Universal
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| Kick rhymes without rehearsal, I cross the burnin sands
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| Now I stand here with virtue, of course I could hurt you
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| Simply with my point of view, and I knew
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| That many would come, that’s why I’ve chosen
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| To cut off pathways and there’s no runways or doorways open
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| For the jokers who ain’t focused
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| And all the fake mercenaries get buried by the tongue of terrifying fury
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| Nothing’s blurry, fuck it I got no worries
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| Hearts and minds shine bright light with insight
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| Yeah since my birthright to set up cyphers with power
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| 'Cause mad shit ain’t right, like punks in the spotlight
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| Who can’t freestyle, sometimes I make my peeps smile
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| By sayin somethin crazy wild
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| Like some shit off my dome that be soundin'
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| Better than the next man’s whole album… |