This is a remix...this is a remix
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"A-a-a-at-at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" >Rakim
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High & Mighty, Wordsworth, Alkemist, Mr. Eon, wreckin shit
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"A-a-a-at-at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme"
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Mr. E-O-N must be talkin bout me
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(Who dat?) The one and only High & Mighty MC
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Who be perpendicular when I be dickin ya
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E smoke a bone the size of a fibula
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Prepare for the slaughter, the lyrical marauder
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Unfreakable acts like me and your daughter, did
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I be coughin layin in the coffin
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Step out the fantasy world you be lost in
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Dead man walkin, engage you hawkin
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>From Pensauken to Vienna
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I be me and a slew to combat your crew
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With acrobatics only seen in cartoons
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Like the Go-ad Rucker, double-pumped ya
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Puncture, vocally rupture, puff a cluster
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Ambidextrious, both sides test this
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Removin wackness like asbestos
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"A-at night, the open mic be invitin me to rhyme"
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"The open mic...the open mic...at night the open mic be
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invitin me to rhyme"
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"Open m-mic, I bring out that box to the shit."
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"At night, the open mic be invitn me to rhyme...
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the open mic-mic-m-m-mic be inv..itin me to r-rh-hyme"
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"Open mic, I bring out that box to the shit"
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[Wordsworth]
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Yo check it out, yo; From cranadle to cradle and able to print
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I'm so deep that dirt's at my naval, my table submit
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You audio/video vaginal, lines imagine a magnitudes
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That give longitude and latitude some attitudes
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>From an environment, freestyle's a requirment
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Upon every album, that my parents had to hide the rent
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If my demise commence unexpectantly, just test my pee
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I bet you see ecstasy or some obscenity inject in me (what else?)
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I flood your airways, place planes in jeopardy
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Flights vanish, panick deputies, expectancy for jet debris
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Let it be, and commence the record to play
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I'm so ahead of my time when I talk there's a seven second delay
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Don't judge a book by its cover when I'm inventin
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I add your colon to my sentence, and start to pluck off on your appendix
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Dexterity hurled is about to rally the world
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You can't write without using like, what are you some type of valley girl?
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At open mics, I'm tellin y'all one last time
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Stop askin for a capellas and then kickin those wach rhymes, flatline
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what, yo-yo-yo
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"A-a-a-a-a-at-a-at night the open mic be invitin me to rhyme
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..the open m...mic be invitin me to r-r...rhyme"
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"Open mic...I bring out that box to the shit"
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[Thirstin Howl III]
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I'm accustomed to abiding by freestyle penal code
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My rhymes are like long drives going down a scenic road
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Taught discipline through paragraphs, walk backstreets and narrow paths
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My kicks look dirty and pants sag like I have no ass!
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Flippin styles that'd pioneered in the Space Age
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Writin your first paragraph, I'm already on my eighth page
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For the way you write your rhymes, I could tell you never really made grades
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Going through life miserable, hatin yourself on payday
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A pleasant plea, Thirstin in parentheses
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I heard a mute man mention me to a blind woman on Vescey Street
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Urged to leave gats alone in memory of Pumpkin and Faster Poem
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Wouldn't want my moms to identify me with half the dome!
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A toast, with high price gangrere
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Battle the best motherfuckers and whoever they bring here
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Long term, sought through rations
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I even put freestyle under special skills when submitting application
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Flows, that can't be followed by asthma patients
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Got a deathwish? Here's his extension, ask for Satan
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The rap languages me and more, findin subjects in Singapore
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Impressin MC's who swore to God they'd seen it all
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"The open mic be invitin me to rhyme"
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"...The open mic...the open mic be invitin me to rhyme"
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"Open mic I bring out that box to the shit"
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*scratched out by DJ Mighty Mi
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Open Mic Night Remix (Featuring Wordsworth and Thirstin Howell III)
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| The High And Mighty |