[Tak]
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Yo, swing the sword for the classic year
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Bring the noise with your hands up, slash and tear
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Who can, fathom asthma, dash for air
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Spittin on the baby bib in the plastic chair
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What's up stupid? Shoot this, 1-5-1
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in the shot glass, hot flash - bangin on the drum, huh
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We cause hav-oc down in Las Vegas
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Paper trails racin Pelican Brief-cases
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We outrageous, name the streets gave us
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Yeah, we got fame, but now we heat blazers
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[Ryu]
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I let 'em all fly, ten in the clip, one in the chamber
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Thumbs up, another banger
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Untuck the flamer, dumbfuck
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It's like gettin hit with a dump truck, brains and guts
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Maim, cut, aim, duck, same, stuff
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Get you cracked up like cocaine, heat 'em up
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Okay, I'll let a sucka's fly once
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Face down, found him in his Cap'n Crunch
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[Tak]
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Uhh, malpractice, a bang-all jam
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I joust rappers and track in the radar scans
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Flip beats with a crew like fleets and platoons
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Reach for the moon like Reese Witherspoon, uhh
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Don't stop the sure-shot, the rooftop anthem
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Blast the gold box, cock back the cannon
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What's up partner, I got ya (what, what)
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Hope that bah-bah, crack the piN?ata
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Slapbox, mouth of backwash
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Teeth mashed up on the asphalt - ya dig?
|
|
[Ryu]
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Set the pace like a Mustang mashin
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Up the stakes, who wanna cut the cake, I take cash
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Dropped on a blood-stained mattress, stop!
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You ain't got access, watch
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I'ma change my asset, Ryu and Tak
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You little cunts in the game, you can suck my cum
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And lay flat on the ground, don't make 'em peep
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If you want the stains out now, get the bleach!
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|
[Interlude]
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[scratches] Get the bleach!
|
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[Ryu]
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Guess who got the rubber gloves and the bleach?
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Guess who rockin every club? That's me
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Get so hot, you feel the buzz in the streets
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Keepin it knockin, drop-drop that beat
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Guess who got the group name on top?
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S.O.B. got the rap game locked
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Who want what, when, why, and what-not
|
Who got next up? Ryu and Tak
|
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[Tak]
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Yeah, here it comes, all you hear is a click
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Bloody brains on the sand was a Miracle Whip
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While the blood keeps gushin relish and pink mustard, huh
|
I'ma slam 'til I tear it to bits
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'Til the bell for the recess rang
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On the defense game, you feelin ill like P.F. Changs
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Hopscotch on the corpse 'til I drop the torch
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And burn crews for their views that'll rock with force
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Sayin, don't stop the sure-shot, the rooftop anthem
|
Blast the gold box, cock back the cannon
|
What's up y'all, we don't stall
|
Come, one, come all 'til we drop the ball like
|
|
[Outro]
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[scratches] Get the bleach!
|
[scratches] Get, get the bleach!
|
[scratches] Get... get the bleach!
|
[scratches] Get, get the bleach!
|
[scratches] Get, get, get the bleach!
|
[scratches] Get... get the bleach! (yeah)
|
|
-----------------
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Bleach (Jimi Remix)
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Fort Minor |