| Yell out, run down the record
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| Gonna feel my rhyme, gonna feel my rhythm
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| Stand proud, 9th Prince is coming
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| To the radio, runnin' in your system
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| Aiyo, my lyrics take flight like state troopers on turn pikes
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| I’ve been a wizard before Air Jordan Mike
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| Computer freaks, I’m like a spider on your website
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| Spitting poisonous venom, rugged like Killarm' jeans denim
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| 9th Prince a poetry writing, expert
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| Staten Island scarfaces, felony cases
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| Banned from your network
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| Demolition Madman performing live in your concert
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| Breaking records with hip hop jams
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| My fam soundscan from Z100 to KissFM
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| Hot 97, all day, every day
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| My verbal gunplay, spray like a AK
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| Make the party people wanna dance like Donay
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| Insert my CD inside your disc play
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| Turn up your radio, one man army scenario
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| Here we go yo, the kids love me
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| Like Saturday morning cartoons, milk & cereal, word up, yo
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| Aiyo, I flow like Blue Magic, my slang ebonics
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| Is banging like Delfonics
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| Killarm' is like a young Temptation, my hand is crippled
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| Writing wiht frustration, baby boy you ain’t got no patience
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| I was born and raised in the Big Apple
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| Made from the best stuff on Earth like Snapple
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| I unravel, let the mind travel, we can battle
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| Live on 105.1, go and get your sons to get up out your guns
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| Put up a million ones, the 9th Prism
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| Blast this in your system, Madman
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| Hit 'em wit the knowledge and the wisdom
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| Understand, what I give 'em
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| That the black man made the rhythm, made the rhythm |