| You hear that? |
| What?
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| What? |
| Woah!
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| We off the train tracks homeboy
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| Outta control
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| Me and Madrox, rocking bitches, slapping the world
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| I say some shit to make your toes curl quick, little bitch
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| Paint a picture like Picasso, from your blood when it drips
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| Take a sip, it makes me stronger than the stongest man
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| And my mind takes a journey to the farthest land
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| I’m the whole world’s kryptonite
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| I got these bitches on they knees, kissing hands, crying begging for they life
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| I’m a put your knife to the neck (slice)
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| Gotta go, run you just a hoe, true you ain’t a juggalo
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| (believe dat)
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| You get your head split, quick, some shit they can’t stitch
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| I’m a scrub for life, don’t let the hair style (?)
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| With a bag of weed looking to blow it
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| Those who don’t know it, I’m Monoxide, blaze up a smoke
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| And pass that shit to your boy, and give his bitch a choke
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| 4 thoze of u that don’t know
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| Never blow hydro
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| Are you afraid to go where I go?
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| Even though, call yourself a juggalo
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| Telling everybody that you dowwwwn
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| For thoze of u that don’t know (hmm?),
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| It’s Mr. Madrox (fuck yeah!)
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| First name, Jamie, can’t nobody see me
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| And my brother M-O-N-O one the m-i-c
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| And basically my little brother Blaze, put it down
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| With thug mentality (that's right)
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| We represent the vicinity of the East (eastside!)
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| But there’ll be no love for hoes or the police (all you thugs put yo shit on!
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| , biyatch!)
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| What you thought it was? |
| Bumping weak shit
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| Need to get some hatchet in your life (Yay! Yay!)
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| Cause you perpetrating, like we don’t know
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| Yesterday you was a hater, but today you’s a juggalo (biyatch!)
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| You just a false wearing sheep nanny ghost
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| Trying to fall up in the flock, with that same mopey dope (mopey dope)
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| Trying to turn you in the shot (Believe it is!)
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| Second hand south scanned underground
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| And plus a hundred grand
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| So fuck a fan base, show me family faces
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| No matter they size, shape, or races
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| First off! |
| (Here we go!)
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| Who better trip and get the sawed off
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| Pointed to the back of your head, acting like the dead
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| Don’t play, 12 shells a day
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| Still put it down for my G’s around the way (Hey! Hey!)
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| Hey, ain’t nobody try to step to
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| Better watch your mouth homeboy, I’ll powerplex you
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| (Ow!) Into the mat, now picture that
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| Your styles so skinny your noise is… (Hella, Hella! Phat, Phat!)
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| Phat enough to kick it with a gang of hoodrats
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| In the back of a chicken shack (Clucking)
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| Move it back to your jaw like a side effect (and fuck you hoodrat hoes in the
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| projects)
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| Got a 12 gauge, and I’m holding it down
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| Who wanna ride wit me, cause I’m headed eastward bound
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| Call the T-W-I-Z-T-I-D-B-L-A-Z-E
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| And we ride till infinity
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| I hate everyone, I hate everyone, I hate everyone, I hate everyone |