| When you stay ready you ain’t gotta get ready, Parks
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| Understand that
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| Microphone check, it’s something new y’all rage
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| These views only prelude from the dude on stage
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| I’m old school, so my mind is in a New York state
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| Still feel like I’m the best rapper in the New York State
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| Though I’m a Jersey City product, we like two doors away
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| Maybe I’m just the best rapper whipping New York plates
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| Indeed it be the God
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| If Fetty is the face of New Jerz, then you see how badly we needed I
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| Young doing it my way, that’s Frank Sinatra
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| I might hang with you bloggers, but I bang with the mobsters
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| See me right in Hell’s Kitchen having drinks over pasta
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| Need the fake to love the real so let me thank you impostors Bicoastal early,
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| y’all hit the Daytons and Impalas
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| Started buzzing around the time Sporty Thievz kept saying «nada»
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| Emcees ain’t even bother, and I don’t know what’s truly worse
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| Them wanting my spot or not knowing they gotta move me first
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| You are now entering the mind of the sick
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| About as remarkable as it gets
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| Here’s what they think about you
|
| Here’s what they think about you
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| You are now entering the mind of the sick
|
| About as remarkable as it gets
|
| Here’s what they think about you
|
| Here’s what they think about you
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| Now, Parks, let me get back to my shit right quick. |
| Now turn me up in my
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| headphones, let me get back on my rage shit right quick though. |
| But turn the
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| lights down in the booth, let’s do this real quick. |
| Look. |
| It go
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| Few years, weights up, still sleep, wake up
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| Bitches know the stakes up since I beat my case up
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| Hip hop shit list, look at these bastard men dress
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| I’m just taking back what’s owed, and adding interest
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| Maybe just my love died, loud lit above high
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| Slugs fly, eyes scrubbed dry, still a thug cries
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| All this paraphilia versus my necrophilia
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| How are they record dealing ya? |
| I wasn’t ever feeling ya
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| This feeling equates professional weapon, can’t seal it, bruh
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| Deuce deuce, .380, a chopper Beretta millia
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| Hov said 30 is the new 20, me, I feel like 30 is the new 40
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| I bought 30 new 40s
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| A bitch moving pills get 30s to move off me
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| Just watch how you moving in Jersey, it’s too costly
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| And memory with candles is where the energy laying you
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| Protect me from my loved ones, enemies I can handle
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| If you talking Slaughterhouse please refer to «SlaughterMouse»
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| Think twice before you blink twice, you gotta roll with mouth
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| Got you birds popping, it’s Korver or Kurt Warner mouse
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| And I be dolo, nobody gotta come warn the mouse
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| Used to take drives through the tunnel, we getting offers now
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| Smelled my man a soda, it’s teddy, I bridged the water’s mouth
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| Live from the Horror house, calling out
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| Done with all this drawing mouth
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| Duke with all the Terry Bradshaw about
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| Kill spree, cops should look after
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| Y’all be yelling free your mans, I yell at my man stop getting captured
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| And all my Irvington niggas over on Lyons put one in the air for Rev. Ron
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| You know we rock with the pastor, moment of silence
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| Put one in the air with me right quick. |
| Bruh, we love you, rest in peace.
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| All my Newark niggas what up? |
| All my niggas over at Chancellor, what’s good?
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| Surf, I see you, on neighborhood. |
| What up? |
| Anywhere there’s real niggas around,
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| I’m right at home. |
| Alright, bring my drums back in a minute. |
| I like this bass
|
| though. |
| I don’t think that’s gonna change no time soon though |