| Aight fuck that shit, word word
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| Fuck that other shit, youknowhatimsayin?
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| We gon do a little somethin like this, yaknahmsayin?
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| (is they up on this?)
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| Keep it on and on and on and on and.
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| Knowhatimsayin? |
| big nas, grand wizard, God what it is?
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| (what it is like?) hah, knowhatimsayin?
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| Yo go head, do that shit nigga
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| I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners
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| Henessey holders and old school niggaz, then I be dissin a Unofficial that smoke woolie thai
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| I dropped out of kooley high, gassed up by a cokehead cutie pie
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| Jungle survivor, fuck whos the liver
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| My man put the battery in my back, a differencem from energizer
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| Sentence begins indented. |
| with formality
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| My durations infinite, moneywise or physiology
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| Poetry, thats a part of me, retardedly bop
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| I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop, straight off the block
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| I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat
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| Childhood lesson make me see him drop in my weed smoke
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| Its real, grew up in trife life, did times or white lines
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| The hype vice, murderous nighttimes, and knife fights invite crimes
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| Chill on the block with cog-nac, hold strap
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| With my peeps thats into drug money, market into rap
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| No sign of the beast in the blue chrysler, I guess that means peace
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| For niggaz no sheisty vice to just snipe ya Start off the dice-rollin mats for craps to cee-lo
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| With sidebets, I roll a deuce, nothin below (peace god!)
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| Peace God -- now the shit is explained
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| Im takin niggaz on a trip straight through memory lane
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| Its like that yall. |
| its like that yall. |
| its like that yall
|
| Chorus: repeat scratches 4x
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| «now let me take a trip down memory lane"-] bizmarkie
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| «comin outta queensbridge»
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| One for the money
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| Two for pussy and foreign cars
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| Three for alize niggaz deceased or behind bars
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| I rap divine gods check the prognosis, is it real or showbiz?
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| My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses
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| Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real
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| A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja
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| Heres my basis, my razor embraces, many faces
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| Your telephone blowin, black stitches or fat shoelaces
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| Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo-fo I let blow
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| And back down po-po when Im vexed so My pen taps the paper then my brains blank
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| I see dark streets, hustlin brothers who keep the same rank
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| Pumpin for somethin, some uprise, plus some fail
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| Judges hangin niggaz, uncorrect bails, for direct sales
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| My intellect prevails from a hangin cross with nails
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| I reinforce the frail, with lyrics thats real
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| Word to christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats
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| I decifer prophecies through a mic and say peace.
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| I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats
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| They spoke of fat cat, that niggas name made bell rings, black
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| Some fiends scream, about supreme team, a jamaica queens thing
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| Uptown was alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo Fuck rap is real, watch the herbs stand still
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| Never talkin to snakes cause the words of man kill
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| True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my veins
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| I pour my heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane
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| «comin outta queensbridge"-] scratched
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| The most dangerous mc is.
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| «comin outta queensbridge"-] scratched
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| The most dangerous mc is.
|
| «comin outta queensbridge"-] scratched
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| The most dangerous mc is.
|
| «comin outta queensbridge"-] scratched
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| The most dangerous mc is.
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| Me numba won, and you know where me from |