[Ghostface Killah:]
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Yo yo yo whassup where my team where my team at?
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C'mere y'all c'mere c'mere, circle around me y'all circle around me
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Yo Timbo check it you bring the motherfuckin rock up
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Sin Dreddy y'all niggaz is forward
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Shyheim, I want you on guard
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Tekitha baby girl yo check it you play center
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Let's rip these niggaz asses, c'mon kid
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Word up, run
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[Tekitha:]
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Hole... hole... oh oh ohhhh
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[Timbo King:]
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We be a team, cause everybody plays a part in this
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Ain't no chuckin, we comin from the parks where the gun sparks
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after dark, you got your three point shooters
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Scrubs who quick to fire out cause your style is out
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We drinkin quarts on courts so how you handle it
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Shootin bricks or sellin bricks, we still scramblin
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with offense and defense, I use the bassline
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to score points frequent
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Yo, yo
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Yo check the mic so I can slam without a crossover
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Wack jump shot punk rock players get tossed over
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by the bleachers, I'm bringin pressure like a power foward
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You try to walk and get away with it the ref saw it
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Your startin five couldn't get verbal live
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I penetrate across the lane, all reasons mines
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Percentage from the field is real, we hard boilin
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Swish shot in your face, your coach is callin
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for a timeout, I bomb your rhyme, with a free throw
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Fast break through the legs crush your rookie ego
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You steppin out of bounds son, now how that sound Dunn
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I thought we was playin ball, don't start at round one
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[Ref: Dreddy Kruger]
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Time the fuck out!
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I got a illegal defense on the wack MC
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Number four, you can't be doin that shit
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Hold on God, peace God, hold on, hold on
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[Killa Sin:] (Oh shit I'm snuffin you!)
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[Tekitha:]
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Soul... in the hole...
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Soul... in the hole...
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[Shyheim:]
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I know niggaz liver than Allan Iverson
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Take it to the hole and roll it in, triple-double in
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Suicide drills get your cavs built
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Crossovers ill, have you thinkin water split
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With the 2-3 zone we smoke em, like bones
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And with the W-I-N, we, punchy at home
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Sore losers take off they jersey, cause they ain't James Worthy
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Your bitch mad cause they ain't get they hands dirty
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Lame, better not open up that Gatorade
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until you game sport, hit the gym and train
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Do some jumping jacks and situps, then maybe you can get up
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But as for now the scoreboard gets lit up
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Take you down the middle, and throw it all day
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We number one draft pick W-S-A
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Nigga, you can't stop my J
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How I do it everyday
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[Killa Sin:]
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Yo, we throwin 52 blocks at outside shots to bubble up the snot box
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No penalties or shot blocks, it's similar to Comstock kid
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You catch an elbow in this hell Hole of concrete
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Add a touch of Soul before we compete
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You better have your Vietnam fleet my squad deep like Ethiopians
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Peep me in the open and I'm closin in
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Focus on the broken rim now, we shake a bone out your stand
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Toss a backpass, with enough force that it'd crack glass
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We celebratin at last for stoppin you
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So take your sorry black ass, back to the lockerroom, yo
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My team work to make your team hurt, we pullin up skirts
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So back down, before these Wu niggaz tear the fuckin shot down
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What what what? No doubt, no doubt
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We got the all-star lineup here
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Y'all niggaz better sign up for my team kid, for real
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[Tekitha:]
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Soul... in the hole...
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Soul... in the hole...
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Soul... in the hole...
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So-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-ul... in the ho-oh-le-le-le-le, Soul
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-----------------
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Soul In The Hole
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Wu-Tang Clan |