| Padam padam! |
| Where’s the track of the drum?
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| So you say you’re the king, but where’s your kingdom?
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| This is my first album of the millennium
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| I got to work some to sell it platinum
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| Daisies are bright yellow… I’m talking like Othello
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| Open up the microphone
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| 'Cause you don’t wanna miss this, check the statistics
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| This might be a mystical lyrical bliss
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| Hulabaloo, peekaboo, you! |
| What can you do?
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| I’m using my microphone voodoo
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| When I hit the mic you feel pain
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| Pump up the volume and go insane
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| Hey, I don’t wanna raise no war senor,
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| Except the Karate plus on the Commodore 64
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| You wanna try my rhyme galore?
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| I give you metaphor from Helsinki to Singapore
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| Chorus:
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| If you think that getting' this easy, fly away, fly away
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| If you think that getting' this easy, fly away 'cause I can’t help you
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| So you say you’re the king
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| You pick the mic but you don’t say nothing
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| Back, back to the track yo combaya, my lord
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| I’m using my word as a sword
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| Hold my mic like a torch in the dark
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| And out come the wolves, like dogs they bark
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| If the locomotion makes you sway like the ocean
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| And you need some more, ask from the TJ’s promotion
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| S.O.S., I come from Loch Ness
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| And you’d rather be at home with your mom playing chess
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| Hiphop hurricane ready for the campaign
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| To break the chains of your brains in this last red minute
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| Show me are you in it, are you part of the crew?
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| One, two, a pump it up, one, two
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| 911 a mayday, a mayday!
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| I think this game was too hard for you to play
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| Say what? |
| So you think you deserve another chance?
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| Fine by me, but one condition: you got to dance
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| One, two, a pump it up, one, two |