| Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
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| I see past everyone else, my name is Billy Idol and my influence is heavily felt
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| Do it myself, my DNA inflict your slaughter like Tony way vocal talks shit to
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| his daughter
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| As I approach the hour of reprisal
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| In a black truck, black moon, black guns, black metal, black sun
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| Two minutes until midnight, we amped up
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| Homie, stand up, leave the competition blammed up
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| Walk quietly and carry a humongous biscuit
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| I’m that guy that smacked your moms and fucked your sister
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| I care less whether you love Buddha or Jesus
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| Not even Mohammed could stop these bullets from freezing
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| Your blood ice cold in your arms and legs
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| Lie in a lifeless pose plus you’re missing part of your head
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| I often thought if I could travel through time, what I would do
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| Often I drift between breaths of ganja fumes
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| Seeing mayhem unfold in the yards of schools
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| Seeing Satan on the chrome screaming God’s a fool
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| Peep the angel of death creepin' on you dudes
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| You’re confusing my customers, man, you’re not the truth
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| We walk close to the edge and we don’t care what the limit is
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| This is business, we the new Cohens and Simmonses
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| The bad seed you catch growing your images
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| You don’t know any lyricists, you only know what a gimmick is
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| I know about parents' dreams, I know where gimmick is
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| I know about guns, drugs, I know the whole city, kid
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| I know what an idiot is, where he lives with his bitch and his kid
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| For the bitch that he did was dug
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| I know about hate, I know there’s no love
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| I know about the stress from an AIDS test, I fuck with no glove
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| Tattoos from a dirty needle, spelling my alias
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| Ask about me in the bean and they’ll tell you how real he is
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| I’m the monsoon goon, pistol packing with coke
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| Packaging ropes, bringing razors to the back of your throat
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| Every record that I made is like a package of dope
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| So take a sniff of fury, homie, take a whack of the hope
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| Call me Mister White, call me Whitey Furrah
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| Play me out, call me Devil and I’ll send you to God
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| You pretend to be hard, yo I bring the Jihad
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| I make war on the man who makes war on the D
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| On the Rahkman and Rahim, Capo regime, captain of the team
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| I know I’m uncivilzed, I know I’m unclean
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| I know I get high, I know I’m sick, I’m obscene
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| Subliminal inning, original sinning
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| Purple drinks swimming, chasing young loose women
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| There’s flames for the coward, praise for the martyr
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| I’m older, I’m wiser, I’m James fucking Carter
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| In the meanwhile you’re going out like Reagan
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| If your girl goes wild, sacrifice that pagan
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| Cause it’s Coka, it’s going down
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| Do you want it by the kee, do you want it by the pound?
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| Yo it’s Coka, it’s going down
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| Do you want it by the kee, do you want it by the pound?
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| Yo it’s Coka, it’s going down
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| Do you want it by the kee, do you want it by the pound?
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| Yo it’s Coka, it’s going down
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| Do you want it by the kee, do you want it by the pound?
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| Yo it’s Coka |