(feat. Ghostface Killah, The Alchemist)
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Yeah.....Yo......
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Hey yo my cocaine's whiter than colgate,
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And when Christ come imma go relocate.
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Finish off the dimes,
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Big slabs of crack, writin my gangstaz will.
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Bury me at the plate in Bronze Bomber's Field.
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Give my young guards the four horses,
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My babi gurls get the pink Porsches.
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Dookie Jims and theyre all gorgeous.
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Came to'em had a mean fortress,
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A french maid blowin me down like Farah Faucet.
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My gun collection is big in the Adolph section,
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My little mini-me he bump off the Mexicans.
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Mostly known for ma earlobe,
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4 million dolla disco ball,
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Shit though ma wrist cut.
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Bang glass on the crystal floor at club Shiznit,
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Lil Romee-Rome just came home,
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Violated parole sellin cell phones.
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With his Snoop Dogg perm,
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His brother Puff Sherm threw two in big worm?
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[Chorus x2]
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My my my money fold up!
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My my my pockets swolled up!
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Say what, say what
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Just roll up!
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What's the hold up unload and reload up.
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Hellfire....Handle the hill? shellfire
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Kill quiet like a knife on the front line.
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Private live ride stage show,
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First bird flamethrow,
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Overthrow, takeover,
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Name known around the globe.
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King Cobra poison slow,
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Fang jungle overgrown.
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Wu Tang, Ghostface, Alchemist killin this song.
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Feelin famous, chop heads, walk illa
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Comic, fillin on pain killers, watchin good fellaz,
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Dancin in the dungeon all by maself,
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I say I think I'm goin crazy, thats a cry for help.
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My phone dont ring but get sexy text messages,
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Gunnin on ma cop, get to bitches mouth wrestlin.
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Hey I'm just chillin with killers at ma disposal,
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I have a feelin youll accept ma proposal.
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Put another dime in the jukebox, I love, rock n roll,
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Bulletproof vest, glock, lock and load.
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[Chorus x2]
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Wait..........
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Rap zombie, I'm controlled by powers beyond me.
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I go from the drum machine straight to the Digi-D,
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To the Harddrive to the G5 to the computer screens.
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To the lab thru the speakers to the Pens n the pads
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To the science to the lab to the vocab.
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Straight to the phone booth, to the mic,
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Back to that O-rap
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Thru the speakers,
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To the place where your hear and your soul at.
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Drop out the drums,
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Rough mix straight to the work dat?
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Bounce the track, disk format and then burn that.
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To the CD,
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We'll take it to the truck where the systems at,
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Make sure the bass hit like a thunderclap.
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Then I double back to the lab,
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Fast like I was runnin laps.
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I freeze! Back to the Digi-D's to an MP3,
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Thru the internet freeway,
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Straight to the DJ's to the radio, constant airplay.
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I gotta keep food on my plate, so I'm moving that Weight!
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[Chorus x2]
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WEIGHT!
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-----------------
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Weight
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Swollen Members |