[U-God]
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Yo, rated x, smack you off the stage when I'm vexed
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No sweat, I crack a cold case of Beck's
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Guess whose back, the jack of all trades is next
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The rap cuisine, I crack a raw egg and flex
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I cave in your chest, this one came from the jets
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Yeah, the cause and effect, make innocent blood pour
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The streets is like the rap game, a daily tug of war
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For rich or for poor, or death do us part, niggaz come for test
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[Chorus: U-God]
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Still grimey (grimey, grimey)
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Still slimey (slimey, slimey)
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Don't try me (try me, try me)
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It's been ten long years, you can't untie me
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[Sean Price]
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Bring fire and Ruck let the heat pour
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Niggaz like Ruck 'Fuck you rhyming to this beat for?'
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Listen, life is like a muthafuckin' seesaw
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One minute you're hot, the next, your rep drops
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None of your biz, fuck around, and run in your crib
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Wife like 'He ain't here', throw some to your wiz
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Niggaz running up on me, til the tre' pound click
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Talking 'bout 'Ruck, let's battle' on some 8 Mile shit
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I'm like; nigga, my name ain't B. Rabbit
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It's Sean Price, Big Ruckus from busting these ratchets
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Call me gay basher, for fucking up these faggots
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Ya'll niggaz ain't nothing, stop fronting, stay passive
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Yo, pass the dutch, on the left hand side
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Sean gone til November, stole Wyclef's ride
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Bob Backlund, car jacking, New Jersey driving
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Ya'll niggaz ain't think about rapping, til you hear me rhyming, oh
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[Chorus]
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[Prodigal Sunn]
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I keeps it real in the field, Navy feel on the drill
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Never stingy with my bills, plenty gravy I spilled
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Recorded in the history of rap, two inch reels
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Seven to ten mills, eleven to twenty hills
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Rest in peace to my brother Half-A-Mil
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Unnecessary blood spilt, another thug killed
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Move with the mass appeal, the blast still
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For the Cash Money Click, No Limits and no thrills
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Mad cuz your hoe, feeling P. Sunzini, give you
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As sweet as a kiwi, face it, you not me, nigga
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Ladi dadi, the Gods like to party
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We don't cause trouble, but we can make you a body
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Ladi dadi, the Sunn likes to party
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I don't cause trouble, but I will make you a body
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Flowin' high in the Mazarati, two with my ninjas beside me
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Lively, floating on some Ducatti's
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With two gellati's, two hotties, we never sloppy
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Jewelry rocky, Spanish pieces, they call me papi
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Clear fire Bacardi, sobered up like Gotti
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Rest in peace to my dog, Shotti, Shotti
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[Chorus]
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[C-Rayz Walz]
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On the corner ready to bo', holding my nuts
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Standing by my building looking at myself in the truck
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My reflections... (still grimey)
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Oscar the Grouch's worms (still slimey)
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I got a jones for Miss Piggy's ham hiney
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I can be a bum in the slums, and slam shiny
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On every corner, I'm grams, you can find me
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The boss of the burners, I fire shots if your nine speak
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This is true Manchu, and who you, fams too?
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Better have they face in the game, like the Blue Man Group
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I heard you smell me, I make it funky
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Rock hard and kick ass like, I hate you donkeys
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My oatmeal lumpy like Johnson's Bumpy, Harlem humpty
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Hungry wolves, pain's hummer, harbor hungry
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Dumpty, blazing trees, now leave an O.E. present
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Know why the hood feel me, like police presence
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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Still Grimey
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Wu-Tang Clan |