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Look at where you at look look at where you're going
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Listen to the rhyme check the way I'm flowing
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Got to come correct when I select words for wreck
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Because respect means more than any bullshit check
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I clain that L.V.P. now knowledge that's on me
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Can't disrespect my O.G.s or roughneck reality
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See I've been down from the start to tear a sucker apart
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Fuck money guns and hoes just flow to show if you've got heart
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And we can go rounds you low-down duck
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Got stuck with a beat-down in P-town cause your style sucks
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You little mark yo you didn't expect it
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Like a pack of drunk drivers man some crew straight wrecked shit
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And ain't that 'bout a bitch? Got jacked in Oregon that's my
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Origin fuck around and now you'll never snore again
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Slept like a baby thinking you were all that
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Your'e all wack player now look at where you at
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Look at where you at
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Stop and just listen 'cause ain't no time for riffing
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Just scoping and hoping I'll get open like a gift when
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Everybody's watching M.C.s beging jocking
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Back in the day we used to play and punks got picked like cotton
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But look at where I'm at now I'm ripping up the track
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Got my mind on a mission now there ain't no turning back
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Peace to Mr. Sam-I-Am for putting me on the path
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Look into the rear-view mirror and today I just laugh
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Back then I used to stumble fumble on the mic or mumble
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But you still put me on so now I try to be humble
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Went to Mecca to get my step correct and do my part
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Now it's Mecca on my mind and Mecca in my heart
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Still I depart from the past last night went fast
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Pete Miser is what I'm known as so now I watch my own ass
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Want to be all that without holding a strap
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Money grip don't trip just look at where you at
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-It ain't where you're from it's where you're at-
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I'm setting it off you're lost so stop and clock your plotted position
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Boy you put upon wax a track that lacks any facts what I mean you're
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slipping
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When I'm hitting I'm kicking the thick non-fiction upon my nation
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Understanding the place I'm facing through the knowledge of foundation
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Case in point the path I traveled unraveled as each step had landed
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Took a look at now for known-how beat my brow where demanded
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Know I'm branded like cattle as the one in battle to make it
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Not a snake kid or a viper or a diaper I don't take shit
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From no-one throw one out to show the clout that I'm attaining
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Rough like leather and like Portland weather better bet I'll be
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reigning
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With an iron fist I dissed you mister pissed you off a little bit
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But the hits that I swung will keep you strung out like a fiddle now
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sit
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Your ass down 'cause the last clown that tried to step
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Got swept like a dustpan man you understand?
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A fan of no one 'cause I know none that can bust a better rap
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I'm from the West Coast West Coast now look at where you at
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Look At Where You At
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| Five Fingers Of Funk |