[Defari]
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A different caliber of MC
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This track is filthy, word to O.J., you make me feel guilty
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of first degree soundbwoy murder
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Unlike anything out of L.A. you ever heard of
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Word up, you play with fire, you'll get burned up
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Best believe that my shit sound the best, when it's turned up
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Loud, mashin down the block suburban style
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Eighteen speakers plus kit chromed out
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Yo, you think that you fuckin pro?
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On the low the other night I caught your wack-ass stage show
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Oh.. boy, you're just a bore
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But you tell everybody that you're like Busta
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and you got "Rhymes Galore"
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Mmm mmm mmm, ain't that somethin?
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Got the nerve to call yourself an MC, man you be frontin
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I don't apologize, oh yeah, and uh
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go back to school, learn some concepts and grammar
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Of yourself, get a hold
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Next time you on stage, use Primatine for some breath control
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(Ha ha ha) But now don't let asthma be the excuse
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You was definitely doper, when no one knew you
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[Chorus 2X: Defari]
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I'm on a killing spree, murder soundbwoy constantly
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Constantly murder wack MC
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I'm on a killing spree, skill level at maximum
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Dem pussy-clat bwoy nah wanna see me
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[Defari]
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You was stone cold lyin by the full wack rhyme writin
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If I had some gasoline I'd ignite it, with my lighter..
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.. BOOM! You combust, cause you disgust me
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Wacker than them flat-ass crackers on Three's Company
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You walk around, mad cause no one's feelin you
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Mad at me, cause all your peoples they know my lyrics too
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They sing along cause my song bumps
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on the mix tapes that YOU made, yet and still you try to playa hate
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(What?) You're featherweight, weaker than a paper plate
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Lyrically, when compared to me, I know your style is fake
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Fraud, manufactures, cheaper than Hyundai
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Now you're hardcore you probably used to be a true nerd guy
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Make up your mind guy, now you're the Mr. Get High guy
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If you ever step to me you'll think French because you're fuckin fried
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in the mix of my verbal assault fightin sticks
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You shouldn't gamble cause round for round you can't handle this
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[Chorus]
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[Defari]
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Cat was out of pocket, got socked in his jaw
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Fell to the floor, that's all she wrote
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But I wrote rhymes, that burn every time
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On mad mix shows I got wreck off the mind
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But what's in a rhyme, if it don't sound tight?
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You ask me if a lot of rappers are wack man you DAMN right
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Who's to say these brothers from L.A.
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will take charge like DeBarge and shine, in a special way?
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I say okay, let's get paid
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Let's put this money on Putnam and sip bombays with dis lemonade
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Use, Gatorade to refuel
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electrolytes after I ignite this mic too
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Yo what's my name? Defari Herut
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By the way since you been askin all these questions
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who the hell are you?
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I seen your kind before, no lie
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A devil spy, disguised as an ambassador
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You can't fool the Divine Sun Rule
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Word to blue magic - step right up - and see the Likwit Crew
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Hurry hurry, get your tickets, stand in line
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After the show it's at the Towers on Sunset and Vine
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Me and my niggaz at the bar sippin Henny
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Got your bitch open all night, as if her name was Denny's
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[Chorus] - 2X
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-----------------
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Killing Spree
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Defari |