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(Kleptomaniac)
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Lyrical wizardry dances on MC's like Murray on SC's
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Never flaunt, now motherfuckers come test me
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Burnin everybody hotter than torches at Jamaican parties
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Far from angels, niggas can't see me like Charlie
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Style weak? Hardly!
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Don't let the wacked persue you like Marley
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JM clique moves in packs like whities on Harleys
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Niggas get injured, fucked do' in 40 fingers
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Got bitches by bike bar bussin Glocks off a' niggas
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Klep don't give three shits to flip scripts
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Miss bullets from clips, leave niggas rollin up skateboards
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wit nuttin under they hips, bitch, so if you test me
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shit gets messy, bustin .38 speci
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outta paper bags like Joe Pesci
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Yo, you know the tune
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Make sure bitches don't eat when it's time to shit out them coke balloons
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Balked up the ninja when it got shady, now I got grown ladies
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bustin .380's outta E Class Mercedes
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(Hurry the fuck up bitchm, get on!)
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(Fuck you motherfucker let me out this L)
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(There they go right there, dot them niggas)
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(Motherfuckers!! *gun shots*)
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MC's get cut like glass, cut like glass
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Rag tagged and crash, hemp bags, come save dat ass
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Who wanna get broke the fuck up? Tell me!
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Freakin vocabulary like Chinese and spelling bees
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T-P-E-L-K held to reflect a device-es
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The nicest, Jesus Christ-es
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Junior Mafioso, niggas get torn off head to torso
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Bullets evacuated out windows
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From Hekkyl and Coch, P7 inmates
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Extra .380 on a string 'round my neck cos feds check the waist
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No time to waste, grab the loot and escape before next break
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Heads are clockin, private eyes are watchin
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Nigga caught up in the hustle
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Fuck flippin packages and tyin up, minx and rings I bubble
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Trouble's what I look for in stores on expensive floors
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Beeling boots is essence, bookin Pelle's in my drawers
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Armani, Gianni Versace, V2
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lost count o' all the little sections me and mans ran thru
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It ain't hard to discard cans of mace on guards
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leave them bitch ass niggas screamin like a fuckin retard
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Lyrically I come off like ink alarms
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Got styles under the wing like spread is booked under my arms
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Niggas couldn't see me with closed circuit TV
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tryin to peep my steez, like DT's I get over like I'm fifteen
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(Hey, you're not fifteen)
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I'm fifteen, what?
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(What do you think we are? Assholes or somethin?)
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Fuck you! Soundin like that nigga from Night Court
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Loose my cuffs I'm outta here!
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MC's be fake like toupes so I transplant
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Implant my fist to their face makin their skin red
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Soundwaves disrupted, they fucked, kid
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Airholes bloody rupted but that ain't nuttin
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The best is yet to come
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MC's get strung like heads on drums
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They don't be knowin what I'm knowin
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Flowin like I'm flowin
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Makin motherfuckers take nose dives like 747 Boeings
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Obnoxious beef's squashes face-to-face
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Niggas get wet up like Alasha's on Klep's place
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Thru the hard time sayin prayers committin crimes
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Sick minds don't care, rockin parties from front to rear
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Brains engulfed by ferocious ???
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runnin up on Big wit Lex wit nappies doused with chloroforms
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Livin in a world where you do what you must
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If preachers be robbin niggas who the fuck can you trust?
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Lyrical Wizardry
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Junior M.A.F.I.A. |