[Verse 1: Killer Mike]
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Looking for the truth, yeah it's me
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Everything Polo to the floor though, even at the grocery store though
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Picture perfect, take a photo
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And take the pic you biting bitch and go and stitch a logo (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah)
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Hit you with the quatro, but my girl Mercedes
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With the Audi say that Quatro was a two door so a typo
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You can put on Killer Kill, Fat Boy, or just Michael
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Call me what you want but still never call me rival
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They will call you dead and I will call you gone
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The loss with jesus we be will be we'll be calling you ass home
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An underground rap ,what I'm meant to be
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Then I will be the shit and you ain't shit to me
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[Hook]
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We won, we the winners with the champagne
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Champagne at the end of our campaign
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Spit fire, naked truth like the blue flame, like the blue flame
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Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
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Let me see your hands up if you
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Caught the plug and we bolt like Usain
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More money, more power, more butane
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Burn the motherfucker down, down
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[Verse: Killer Mike]
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Life's a bitch so I mack on her immaculate
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I don't wear no monkey watches
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Rolex is too accurate
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My rhymes are actually accurate
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Meaning I don't fiction in my diction to the masses
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Perfection is performed through many practices
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I prostitute the mattresses
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This shit just come naturally
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Easy as Osama's bombers takin many casualties
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Like Columbine I'm down for mine I'm here to kill the faculty
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Killin them or killin me
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This is my soliloquy
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Iller than the illest beat
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I will spit the illest shit from right here to infinity
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Till I reach the dirt
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I will search the earth endlessly looking for the Hennessy?
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Ain't nobody lyrically as ill as me, that's Eazy-E
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Come back from A.I.Da¢æ|S yes
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Get a beat from E-L-P, ghostwritten for my partner T.I.P
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Cube and me Every time, travel back to 95, jumping in a 63 Impala, playing Cuban Linx
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[Hook]
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[Verse 3: EL-P]
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Yo, I'm a Grinch with a grin, I will shit on your kids
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Get a light, get a grip, get a hold on my dick, bitch
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Make a wish
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I'm a knife, I'm nothing thats nicer then getting sliced up
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The switch, the machete, the fatty Yeti, the shite
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Getting closer to Christ yah
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Might just find your design of your life an angel head short of divine love
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I stink, I just stunk up a trunk to sell bricks
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I'm a Sphinx, so much that my nose just broke off... think
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I'm alone again clutching a loaded Glock soaked in chromium
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Hoping that the thought police just don't bust in my home again
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Life is tough, you get snuffed in [?]
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What the fuck, this is not what my mother said I'll become
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Star-spangled wranglers got my hopes on the run
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Getting closer now
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Maybe our society supposed to drown
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Middle finger up on the Titanic as it's going down
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[Hook]
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-----------------
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Butane (Champion's Anthem)
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Killer Mike |