| Yeah, yeah, a special guest appearance
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| From the slums… yo, aiyo
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| I examine your diameter, third eye light the camera up
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| Be careful, I got four ninjas, inside your parameter
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| Perimeter, flame burst out all sides like Gamora
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| My poisonous is released, gas from the canister
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| Raise the black fist, we keep the earth on it’s axis
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| I make a good day move slow like molasses
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| Welcome to the bee hive, dual processor with the G5
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| There’s not a tape or disco break I can’t revive
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| In this high tech world of fire wire and microchip
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| We still keep the four-five clip, filled with the spiral tip
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| I come from the 36 Chambers of danger
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| With many lyrical swordsmen, that quick to change ya
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| The difficulty to see closely, is mostly
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| It’s a critical point, when ya rap niggas approach me
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| Like the blind, deaf, dumb, who mind was left numb
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| A non B-Boy nigga, couldn’t rhyme to the drum
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| When I started M.C.'ing I entered, the gates of pleasure
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| Not knowing, I be coming with, too much to measure
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| With the math of an elder, and the steel of a welder
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| The path of tray, that I had laid down, to held a
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| Blueprint, that would draw attention like the Pope
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| I examine all with the internal mirror of the scope
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| Supreme deluxe edition, CREAM with a touch of wisdom
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| Beams that through up the system, spleens, I conduct, you listen
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| How you gonna tell me no, yo, the fuck you is in
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| Locked in a four block radius like a public prison
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| Twenty two year old, dunn, ain’t got a cup to piss in
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| But he got a barrel gun, and that’s knuckle twitching
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| And he got a baby moms and a cousin bitching
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| Went to catch a body, now he stuck in another prison
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| When you see it, you better acknowledge, your all swords
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| Blaze the green hundred fours
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| Pull out on you, blew you for the cause
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| And Sudan outst a nigga, seclude you from my Clan
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| This is water Glock, aces on cameras sniffin' raw
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| Why try to fuck with these lecturers
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| I’m so high powered, my electrical structure blew down the floor
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| You was king for a second, I reigned, came with a different name
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| The W.T.C. |
| Family and more, one!
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| They applause when I make my entrance
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| I move on 'em with age and experience, before I start the sentence
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| The rhyme was designed to meet most demand
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| Is enough to compensate, fertilize the land
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| He blew out the belt drive, M.C.'s they felt vibes
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| Powerful dart, narrowly missing your whole tribe
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| Scientists look, at the magnitude and devastation
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| But the strands of heavy metal seem to have no relation
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| But it’s always potential for large scale disasters
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| Because the instrumentals, spins a hundred times faster
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| Many was taken, is at the price of a pawn
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| And the collective lost had left, thousand of mourn
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| Them Clansmen, are the nucleus of hip-hop
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| There’s no room for error, M.C.'s will get dropped
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| Evidence of terrifying threats from heat pressure
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| Power by strong winds that blew rhymes off the dresser
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| The words spread through the town from Yonkers to Leffers
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| And to kill off the slang was a city wide effort
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| But they couldn’t be more wrong, my click was all strong
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| Fit together seamlessly, til you’re all gone
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| The queen by far, is the strongest piece
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| Should too, should not be prematurely brought
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| Into play, during in the opening
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| Or she will be attacked by weaker pieces
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| And driven back, it is very dangerous
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| To make a raid with the queen early on in the game
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| It is best, in opening, to make but one move with the queen
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| And that, to a square where she is not exposed
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| To any direct or indirect attack |