| Who’s the most vicious emcee spitting sickness over verses with ill techniques
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| My skill speaks, like drill seargeants
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| I kill squads, is when I spill the hardest
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| From here to August I’m an artist, far from modest
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| How many times I promise to harvest in your conscience
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| Talking shit, constant, 'till you tell me to stop it
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| In the cockpit I drop hits from here to Compton
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| I’ll spit on your carpet, using the tip of a shotgun
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| I’m a monster when I got one, so put up your guard
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| Spit, but consider wit' caution when I beg your pardon
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| I’ma bug 'till I rock the garden
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| My cock is the size of an oxen, there’s no option
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| I’ma steal oxygen from the planet, and sniff dust off of granite
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| Rocking a jacket, that lets me transmit, pages of a pamplet
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| That knocks bandits into plywood, they casket, you bastards
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| I’m your area, I’ll bury ya
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| Scarin' ya, full of hesteria
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| More rabid than a Pitbull-Terrier
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| I’ll smoke a bit a dope and float like a herrier
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| I’d say get ready but there is no preparing ya
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| For the character, against violence
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| A giant, not using your right to remain silent
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| You want a rap career? |
| You can’t have it
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| Your not O.J., you need to take another stab at it
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| Sad faggot, when I start to rap and add magic
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| They gasp at it, like asthmatic crack-addicts
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| And laugh at at, fanatic estatic rap-static, dap tragic
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| You’ll get caught up like you’re in bad traffic
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| Dramatic, traumatic, skillfull syllables
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| Unkillable
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| Was fed wack rappers through my umbilical
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| Still filled with bullshit topics and profit off it
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| Pocket a lot of dollars while the followers jock it
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| One of the nicest alive and breathing, still in the lead with this
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| I’m pleased to leave them bleeding, pleading the fifth
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| Nobody spits like this anymore
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| I’m from the underground where clowns get torn apart, it’s the art of war
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| You want respect you gotta earn it, take it
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| Don’t expect to get it with Rolex’s or a Lexus
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| I bet your necklace on my life you won’t win on the mic
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| By the likes of you faggots it’ll be a tragic sacrifice
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| After stabbing you twice you’ll be handing your life over
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| I rhyme colder, freezing time with every line
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| Use your mind soldier, I keep mine sober
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| Goes as a lyrical show, the wit, the instincs of a King Cobra
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| I bring closure with no remorse or remission, the flow is gorgeously sickened
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| The aura glows in the written’s
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| I’m spittin' nothing but illness, skill, and resilience
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| I kill 'em with brilliance, you don’t have to feel this, but still |