Intro:
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(laughing) Yeah, coming to you like, yeah, you know another one of those,
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flavorishis, mackadoshis, sour cream and onion type flavor.
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Redman:
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I rule the world like Kurtis Blow with my afro blown
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I'm torn out the frame, drunk style stagger like Ned the Wino
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For black albino, I'm like suicide on vinyle
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The type of antidope shit you have to keep away from my nose
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And I'm the, bombest rhymer, check my steez
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My vocals are like vaginas, wet an MC's when they open
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My identities, blows facilities to ememies please test these abilities
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I'm rugged, I pack a 24 studded, karrot automatic, 45 nigga slugger
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So ring thee alarm, when your TV is on, I react freakin' to songs
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When bitches see me perform, bitches say I strickly brake vertibraes
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Bones back, chinky eyed like Japs I blow states off the map
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Just by eye contact
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Hook:
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Don't get it twisted and if you do, you best to move on move on
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"Rock, rock on" - Redman (x4)
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Erick Sermon:
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Yeah, I shut down things for the moment, what?
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Paying my does for them fake ass crews (yeah)
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Who be claimin' to be the shit y'all stop
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Gimmicks, hard core lyrics for an image
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I'm stompin' 'em the beast wompin' 'em
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Brain damage is caused, girls drop they drawers to the ground
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I be's the Effect like Wrecks, rhyme skills be shooting off like two black
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techs
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Somebody stop me I'm smoking like Mask
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Shut your mouth, he's a bad, uh, like Shaft
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The E-Double bring the dopest material, way out cosmic type
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Alcoholic whisky type funk for your sissys (word up)
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Huh, I take it to the streets, if you can't run up on my turf then get some
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cleats
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I let one nigga slide in 93, but this year, he's fuckin' history
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Hook (X4)
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Passion:
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Strick nine rules the mind on the verge of destruction
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Blood starts to boil like a lyrical combustion, eruption
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Insane no pressure no pain, niggas falling off it's strain to maintain
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They be killing me, trying to preach to me, teach to me
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I got a PHD in funkology
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You got your bachelors and your masters in the field of dramatics
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The lyrical are bringing the static from the attic, so cock your automatics
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I've had it up to here, you niggas are in danger
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You better stand clear, no hugs no love and kiss mainstream America
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They just ain't ready for this, cause I'm nice as shit
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Niggas be having fits, the Squad of Def be smacking hits after hits
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And what's goin' on in your mind I can feel it
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Tremors in the body has caused for the healin'
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Hook (x4)
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Outro:
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You know what I'm sayin'? Things is hot in the tunnel out in here you know
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what I'm sayin'? Ah, N-Y-C streets is love, it's hot in the summer, um,
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spring, winter and fall things are just lovely, sweet & sour sauce. Doin'
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this y'all feel this. I feel you.
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-----------------
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Move On
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EPMD |