| You wanna know my business? |
| I got things to do
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| People to meet, people to see
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| Very important — matters to turn to
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| A waste of time for me to try to burn you
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| And talk a minute, you’re not worth a conversation
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| I speak intelligently, with information
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| Goin and flowin and showin, you’re still growin
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| Adolescent -- with a childish mind
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| Your brain is small, plus it’s hard to find
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| I need a microscope, to see a two-cent brain
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| That don’t think, when they rob and steal
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| And rape and kill -- and murder their loved ones
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| Now put your brain in the guillotine
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| Slice it to cold cuts, you’re goin nuts? |
| cell
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| You wanna low rate me?
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| You’re better off in Hell, feel the flame
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| Fire burn roast and toast
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| Let me hear you scald, while I brag and boast
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| I keep your brain on stand-by
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| Cause it’s the message, comin straight from the boss!
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| Your attention please, come on, let me try this
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| This beat is funky -- so I just
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| Made up some rhymes that are hyper than hyperspace
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| Ced Gee will kick bass, eliminate
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| Rappers who think quick slick with a few tricks
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| Can’t be quick fixed if they try this
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| Man, and, aiyyo, I have the right to be
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| On any stage and mic someone can pass to me
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| Cause, I’m in there, and I swear
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| I’m like Vladimir, no one bet-ter
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| Step to me, get to me, or pes-ter me
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| Confess to me, guessin me
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| Adressin me, be less than me, or testin me
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| Because, it only brings out the best in me
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| Soul, no — here’s what you really need to do
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| Instead of battlin you need to really improve
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| Our race, and every other race
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| Bring em together -- and let’s face
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| The problems, that we need to be solvin
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| People are dyin, starvin, robbin
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| Bein discriminated from different jobs
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| And things like that so think about that
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| We have a tool to use that they call rap
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| So, yo, let’s use it, not abuse it
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| And in the long run, we have improved this
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| Situation and turned into a positive
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| They doubted this, so we’re proud of this
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| Institution we invented of course
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| That’s why this message, is comin from the BOSS!
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| Once again, I hear your garbage on my radio
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| Left to right, and comin through my stereo
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| I turn it off, go off without show-off
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| Blow off MC’s who can’t talk or read or write
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| Or learn, stutter — I think you need to go? |
| RIFT?
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| But watch me shift
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| The smarter I get, the dumber you get
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| The better I get, the wacker you get
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| Ha ha hah, I gotta laugh — MC’s are very funny to me
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| And on Easter, they’re like a bunny to me
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| Hoppin around, without a education
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| Formation, results in occupation
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| Better skills, how to sign a application
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| For a job, but you’d rather be a slob
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| A parasite, eating corn off the cob
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| Beggin everybody, you got a dollar for crack?
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| I’ll pay you back
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| Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday’s here
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| Where’s my money?
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| It ain’t funny with a pipe in your face
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| For a fracture, last time the cops smacked ya
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| For hittin your moms and pops
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| You need a shake in your brain, adolescent
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| I’m a vet, you’re juvenile, and driven wild, meanwhile
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| You look stupid and petty, and now senile
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| How’s time in jail without bail?
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| Now you’re up for sale, you’re like a prostitute
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| Another man’s wife, on the la-la tip
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| Think about it again
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| Cause it’s the message, comin straight from the BOSS! |