[Intro: Marley Marl]
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Gawd-DAYUM! I don't know what y'all been thinkin bout
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But I think this right here is about to shut dem damn haters down!
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[Big Daddy Kane:]
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I'm from the streets that make niggaz walk slow talk low
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With white chalk-o, mi casa be siete uno ocho
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Brooklyn motherfucker, handle this - pardon my Spanish and French (Brooklyn baby!)
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Okay, I stay clever like Mayweather with lay leather
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'til your face sever, one of the greatest ever
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Beyond ringing bells, my name's so demanding
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Shit! - I got the swagger that'll leave Dakota "Fanning" (That boy still standing!)
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I hope you niggaz over standing; I stay sucker-free
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The next kaing of in the game, you ain't got enough to be
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Your career last a week, that'll be luckily
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Fuck with me, the rap game'll need protective custody
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(AHH!) I'm the same thug to be, surrounded with women
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Gave the game "True Religion" before you found it in denim
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Feel the, "Wrath of Kane," and you could not escape
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The hip-hop version of "The Ring" and you just watched the tape (Next up!)
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[Bun B.:]
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And keep your eyes on the niggas in Ward
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Triple black in the candy painted car is the color of board
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Me or my brother on pall with n'am nigga
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We Trill workin the wheel, understand nigga? (UNDERSTAND?)
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I smother and split a bitch down to the tendon
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High pressure, if you don't break your ass bendin
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I'm way past endin in my series of warnin
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You flex with me tonight playa you dead by the mornin (Woo!)
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Bun Beater the best ever breathin or deceased
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From the South to Midwest, Cali to the East
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Got to any city nigga and bring my name up (all o'em!)
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I bet I eat the best rapper they got in the game up
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Call a nigga up, email him or chirp him
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Make a meal out his motherfuckin ass and then burp him
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(DAYUM!) Don't fuck around I'm not your lil' homey
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I'm the king of the underground so act like you know me (Next up!)
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[Kool G. Rap:]
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Feel me...
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Homie, we big steppin, big reppin
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We givin kids Smith & Wesson's lessons, you get left with a sketchin
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Left with the Midwest, clique Texans (who dat?)
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G. and Daddy Kane, the click Texas, (word) pop you to death
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I put private planes on swift Jetsons, niggaz know what it is
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When you see the ball cap and a slick Thessons (woo!)
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(Aight) Til you strip vexing to a movie clip from the Westerns
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Shit from the Uzi clip lift up your midsection (Tell em G. Rap)
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He will introduce you to the nose on the Glock fam
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Give you metal jackets like clothes from a rock band (rock band!)
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Multiple holes, you get those on your top, man (AOOOW!)
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High roller dose some hoes on the cock plan
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Froze but never coldly rolls with a hot hand
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We stackin cheese til the rubberbands pop scrams
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And I ain't breakdancin when I'm in the pop stance
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Bank pounds like James Brown give 'em "Hot Pants" (Next up!)
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[Pimp C:]
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I make your girl get down and open it up
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Put my dick up in they jaws and go in they butt
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I'm a young hot street flame (Flame)
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They call me Sweet James, or call me Sir Jones
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Two hundred dollar cologne
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(Uh!) Board Nine, or Issey Miyaki
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I got your girl mine, meat strong like saki
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I ain't Rocky but I keep her rockin
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Fuck around I'll knock your tuna fish out of socket
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Your bitch out of pocket, she under pimpery
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She reckless eyeballin watchin my top fall in
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On my Lambourghini with the quick scream
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Fettucini, linguini, shrimp and a bowl of lean!
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What you know about gettin cross country
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Nigga your piece big but your diamond look monkey
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You need to take that shit back
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That ain't no emmy diamonds what the fuck you done to that...
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Bitch what the fuck you done to that?!
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[Outro: Marley Marl]
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Now, damn somebody need to beat Jacob's ass over that!
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-----------------
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Next Up
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UGK |