(feat. Crooked I)
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"Somebody lift me up, yeahhh
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And give me a hannnnnd
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Give me a ride, I'm slidin off the highway
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There's a curve in the road
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I don't know when I'm going, crazy"
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[vocal gun sounds and scatting for next 22 seconds]
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[Royce Da 5'9"]
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Verbalizin my fiend murder
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Communicatin while you debatin usin machine squirters
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Brrap, that trigger's my tongue, I let you lick it
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Nigga that, fo'-fifth'll, lift a nigga, whole clique up
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The Lord call for your soul, it's time to go pick up
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Answer the horn, it's blowin at you, you cold stiff up
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My heat, heatin my whole hip up, all we do is court strippers
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Your metal freezin like it's a morgue zipper
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I (I) ride around with Preme
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Not the Preme from Queens, but the Preme from {?}
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'Bout to change the game, 'bout to fly the desert, eagle
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for y'all people like the wing's the clip, and the barrel's the beak
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My perilous fleece, I'ma throw on them diamonds
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I'm a pharaoh deceased, like a spawn was rhymin
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And, I would advice ya not attempt to
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New (Temptations), the gun harmonizin
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[vocal gun sounds and scatting for next 22 seconds]
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[Royce Da 5'9"]
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Every bullet's a note
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I write with a firing pen every time the, trigger pull it's a quote
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Inside a poof full of smoke
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Sniffin lines of that gunpowder I'm hotter than a pair of boots and a coat
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And a turtleneck
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The best rapper alive could be the best rapper that died, a murderous
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If you ain't get it by now I'm suicidal
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I'm wild, a nigga better than me is who I ain't heard of yet
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So I ain't murdered yet
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He ain't even been born, his momma's a virgin, she ain't even furtile yet
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Prepare to get back - next time you take a shit
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Stand and turn around and look in the toilet then compare me to THAT
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Don't compare me to none of these motherfuckin
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wannabe hustlers tough until they standin in front of me duckin
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It's off with yo' head nigga 'less you one of them Dodgers
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We sound off as one, we gun harmonize!
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[vocal gun sounds and scatting for next 22 seconds]
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[Crooked I]
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This shit is musical, my spit is beautiful
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And if the best rapper died we'd be sittin at Nickel's funeral
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But we ain't dyin cause our trigger finger nail you
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as quick as you clip a cuticle, hollows'll hit your follicles
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I split your wig from far away like a long arm barber
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Then lift your weight like a strong arm robber
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Put that on Moses, I rely on my ride
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As sure as Satan's tongue lyin to God, everybody dyin
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It's like you standin in a circular firing squad
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Singers for hire I find him a job
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You see the gauge baritone, the revolver's a tenor
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Way the shots spin your body I'ma call 'em "The Spinners"
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Call 'em "Earth, Wind & Fire", put you beneath the earth, wind and fire
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Feel the fire that burnt Richard Pryor
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I'm keepin two guns, I named 'em Romeo and Juliet
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Make you take five like you and your homies on the movie set
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BLAOW!
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[vocal gun sounds and scatting for next 22 seconds]
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-----------------
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Gun Harmonizing
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Royce Da 5'9'' |