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?Sahara zombie?
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Yeah
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For all those affiliated
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Yeah yeah
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[Tame One]
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Word is bond my songs ain't wack, and any nigga
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who thinks that, they must can't rap, and can't get that
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I got dues with receipts, peeps who make mad beats
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So if you get souped, I add beef
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Commander in Chief of the belief fonta leafs burn slower
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The end knot mixin E&J with soda keeps me geeked up
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So if you got weed then speak up
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so I can twist up and leave you with that shit in tea cups
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We bust the raps that matter, while you battle
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your own boys, just to check to see who's fatter
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I put it together like McGyver, bombin your rhyme cypher
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Helpin to represent funk like diapers
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I'm one of them prime time rhymes without rotation
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but I'm patient, cause Tame One don't owe no station nathan
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I'd rather hide my tape collection like I'm Nixon
|
Watergate nine-six in effect, the deck's missin
|
Chorus: El Da Sensai
|
Crews get taken out quick, who's the best
|
Tame and MC El bringin lyrics to ya chest, one two
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(repeat 2X)
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[El Da Sensai]
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One two, Artifacts, nine-six
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My forms, patterns, some might think it's arrogant
|
I'm transparent, but with lyrics it's apparent
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That I be the greater rhyme stater with the data
|
Saturn Sega, player, wack nigga hater
|
Instant flow, like five minute grits flips
|
To rock for the Jack's haps be on some other shit
|
Uncover skits like a private dick hits
|
From all different directions, chop you into sections
|
like a jigsaw, shit be raw, rock for alla y'all tall
|
raps, and brawls, touch all jaws
|
with the gall, foot in the mix like Hammer grammar forms
|
Check the track, flip the song Hits From the Bong, wrong
|
Side bumpin in your ride
|
Graffitism tokin ism gaggin off the lyrical jism
|
New Jersey native, creative with the sorts
|
B-boy wishin for battles check the injury reports
|
But there are no flaws in this rap lord's rest
|
Open wide niggaz, we bring it to ya chest
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Chorus
|
|
|
-----------------
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to ya chest
|
artifacts |