John Cena]
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The untouchable cat whose style is right
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I can be mistaken for the smooth and silent type
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My violence bites tight like it was vampire's teeth
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I'm hammerin chief, opponents with beef, you're put to sleep
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My radical brain, will run your terrain, I'm comin again
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It's simple and plain, you're hurtin, there's no numbin the pain
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Warpin your frame to convex with ill techs
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Still flex, kill specs on cassette decks
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Mic checks, and tight reps, collect all live bets
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We'll see how bright the lights get
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The illest attack, I fight with artillery jacket
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Physically smacked then verbally humbled
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You stumble and fumble, so I gain posession
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Music moves in cycles, natural progression
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Thuganomics lesson is taught when records are bought
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Analyzed for lies and fillers, nowadays
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Gorillas make scrilla if the market's correct
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All you need is a hook, and a hand to collect
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Lack cred but respect MC's before me
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Don't blast the back heat but the streets, can't ignore me
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Hands nice, I rock your wigpiece, leave your hard rep soft
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Just like when Miami left the Big East..
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[Chorus *scratched*]
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bu bu bu bu bu Bust that
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Y'all know my steez, yo we raisin the bar
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Assassinate the mainstream
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Y'all know my steez, Trademarc and John Cena
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Assassinate the mainstream
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Y'all know my steez, yo we raisin the bar
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Assassinate the mainstream
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Y'all know my steez, Trademarc and John Cena
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Assassinate the mainstream
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[Trademarc]
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I calculate between the hi-hat, the bassline
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The slideback, the scene decides that, Trademarc
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designed raps through divine contact
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The synapse to climb a syntax error/era, define clever
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We find Trademarc's photo ID below the letters
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Your rhymes are general played, minimal blank
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Your eyes was blinded by the signs of federal banks
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You lost your focus of function
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'Member back when MC's used to spit and say (shit) that meant somethin
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The mainstream remained clean
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Then the corporate industry became the same dream
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And I leaned back below the scene
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Mappin out the future warfare schemes
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To sweep through the streets lethal, to meet you
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Delete too, editorial restrictions
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Cause labels need candy-ass rappers so the populars can listen
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Not the caste system
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The last talented cats that lost they status
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Real raps end up gratis tracks on mixtapes that never sell
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Cause executives and marketing schemes
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Designed rims, hoes and music, and bed in jail
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I know the veterans can tell, I see through the image
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Mainstream acts is timid
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I want hard beats, basslines, and lyrics that's vivid
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A voice within it, tellin me real rap is comin back and boy it's livid
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I want it, I breathe it, I live it
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I cornered the scene and I bring destruction
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You ain't worth your weight, never mind the cost of post-production
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Introduction of Trademarc, the poet laureate
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Through the diction of reason
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Rhyme forever, but born out the 7 iller, about to beat in
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[Chorus] - repeat to fade
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-----------------
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Untouchables
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John Cena |