| All my life, they said I’m trife, street rebel wit Nikes
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| And catch an appetite off other niggas grabbin a mic
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| I write, deeper shit that Malcolm X could recite
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| Wit this rap device, rhymes so strong, you get sliced
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| Three dimension nice, stay on point like Wes Snipe
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| (What's up tonight?) Of them days look right
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| Let’s creep, New York City hold me down wit the heat
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| Mandatory ease, reppin from Flushing to 12 Street
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| Delete, all these knuckleheads lookin for beef
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| I’m vexed, half ya niggas don’t deserve our respect
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| We take, regulate, Royal Flush out state
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| Penetrate, thru other areas, hustle and wait
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| No mistakes, just a large nigga livin wit fate
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| Celebrate, and have the whole world buyin my tape
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| I’m just a kid on the block, hustlin till I’m not
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| Poppin Crystal in yachts, layin low on the docks
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| Wit big Willie niggas, gettin riches, my life switches
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| My moms always said it be different in time, listen
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| My prop addiction, is far from fiction
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| My street commission, that keep me healthy
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| Little chubby, but my pockets wealthy
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| My brother help me, jail time will reveal me
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| I sware thunn, there’s nothin you can tell me
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| Can’t Help It, if I wanted to
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| Gotta hustle, just to make it through
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| Can’t Help It, if I wanted to
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| If you ever been down
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| It gets deeper, talk about it while I’m high off reefer
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| The black Ebenezer, phantom dark when I meet you
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| And tap ya five fingers, coast to coat, I pack arenas
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| Ain’t nuthin between us, except I’m close, and you fall like Venus
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| The male genius, hittin shorties, lookin European
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| And overdosin ghetto potion so the Gods are toastin
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| My links is flooded like the ocean and keepin motion
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| The verbal chosen wisdom, hold me down when I’m frozen
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| You stay dozin, the best is now rosin, my man
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| Comprehend a lot, but don’t understand
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| So update ya plans, I’ll be broke just like your mans
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| Hit like iron hands, the data don, computer plans
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| The Wastlanz, expands, in grands and cross lands
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| Analyze the scans from Queens, ya niggas only dream, so pathetic
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| When it comes to guns, ya need to jet, forget it
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| All ya petty niggas always scared to set it
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| Royal Flush meant it, and let the government present it
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| This worldwide message I release while I’m sendin |