| R: Rugged and rough that’s how I do it
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| A: Allah who I praise to the fullest
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| K: Keep it moving
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| I, Stand alone
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| M: It’s my crown, my world, my throne
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| Aiyyo when Rakim Allah attack, it’s a wrap y’all relax
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| The almanac, just show me where the party’s at
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| Seminars and tracks, whores, comas, and cardiacs
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| Broads and cats screaming «Oh my God he’s back»
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| Just imagine, I hit the lab and get it crackin'
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| A thousand styles in one verse, rhythms will switch patterns
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| Chicks get stabbed in the back, till they get spasms
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| Known to spit a magnum, or split an atom
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| Who woulda known that Jesus would come back to the ghetto
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| On that level, and that thorough, like a black hero
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| And pack metal, so rap rebels, will back pedal
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| The pharaoh of five boroughs, and take over the rap world
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| Gettin' bizarre, hardcore, this is for y’all
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| The crib or the park, play it when you get in the car
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| Chill at the bar, sip somethin' or split a cigar
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| Get with your dogs, don’t be alarmed, this kid is the bomb
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| It’s the…
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| R: Rugged and rough that’s how I do it
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| A: Allah who I praise to the fullest
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| K: Keep it moving
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| I, Stand alone
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| M: It’s my crown, my world, my throne
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| Uh, yeah yo, I used to paint this flow, on ancient scrolls
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| And learn ta, make this dough, where gangstas roll
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| Think like the late great Capone when the bank is closed
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| It’s cats that claim they bold, but they ain’t this cold
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| I’m from New York City, even pretty chicks act up
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| Niggas get clapped up, you stack up, they stick that up
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| Put the strap up, you think my name was «Kid back up»
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| Big niggas (spittin' noise) pick that up, or lift that up
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| Raised by gangstas and gamblers, hustlers, con artists
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| And convicts, killers and dons
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| Drug dealers, playas and pimps, smooth talkers
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| Stick up kids, thugs, real niggas and gods
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| Haunted by every soul that lay dead in the turf
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| Cursed by every spirit, that never made it to birth
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| Since the Moon separated from Earth
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| That’s why they say I’m the greatest that ever orchestrated a verse
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| It’s the
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| R: Rugged and rough that’s how I do it
|
| A: Allah who I praise to the fullest
|
| K: Keep it moving
|
| I, Stand alone
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| M: It’s my crown, my world, my throne
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| Ay yo, we toast to that, it’s the cat that broke backs
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| To a soul clap, a smoke a track, how dope is that
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| Poet for rap, wrote backs that most slack
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| That know rap before they turned coke to crack
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| To my dogs hearin' sirens on and firearms
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| Outcome die in wars or behind iron bars
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| The boulevard, tire frauds when I evolve
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| Try and rob, my dialogue, I am God
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| Chicks moan just to get next to my throne
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| And sniff my cologne and get Ra alone
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| Sex spot’s at home, I’m testosterone
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| Caress spots, stress drops, bedrock’s the bone
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| Hit the floor, it’s hot for 2003
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| Hit’s galore, who rock a style as wild as me
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| Rest assure, when I rock dance crowds and scream
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| Bismillah Ir-Rahman Ir-Rahim it’s the
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| R: Rugged and rough that’s how I do it
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| A: Allah who I praise to the fullest
|
| K: Keep it moving
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| I, Stand alone
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| M: It’s my crown, my world, my throne |