(Hey man, don't you realize
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In order for us to make this thing work, man
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We've got to get rid of the pimps, and the pushers, and the prostitutes?)
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Ba-ha-ha-ha...
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Yes, yes, y'all
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Ah, ah
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That's funky
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Yeah
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Hey yo, Marley, man
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Yo, what's up, man?
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Hey yo, man
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You know
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We was gettin busy on the album everyday
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We been gettin funky, but
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I wanna take this jam back to Farmers
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Knowmsayin?
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Yo, let's go back on Farmers
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And get some of them early MC's
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You used to be kickin it with back in the day?
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Yeah, yeah, yeah
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Yo, let's do a jam with them
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Aight, bet
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But first I gotta like introduce it
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Youknowmsayin?
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Aight, kick it...Back in the days, before I was Cool J
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I used to hang up on the corner, pumpin Games People Play
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Sittin on a garbage can, rhymin to my man
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Talkin bout big money and future plans
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I always told the brothers, if I got a contract
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When the money started flowin, I'd be back
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To do a jam, against all odds
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Introducing rapper 1 from Farmers Boulevard
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Hey yo, B-o-m-b, bomb explosion
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Attack like a cat when I'm trapped and I'm closed in
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Sharp-ass claws, and I break all laws
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In a while all jaws, cause I'm perfect, no flaws
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Now I'm back to Farmers on some new improved
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(Sh...) I'm makin moves, not fakin moves
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So don't you never come around here, talkin that talk
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Or walkin that walk, you'll get played like a sport
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Football, soccer, whatever you savour
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You're a tramp and a pussycat, ready for labor
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Ha! L'll have you breakin locks
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I'll have you cookin fried rice in a big steel box
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The type of skills that I got reigned for years
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No worry or cares, your crew'll shed tears
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'Hip-hip-hooray, he's back!' Yo, save the cheers
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Suckers, I'm drinkin forties of beers
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On the Boulevard
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Funky, funky, funky rhymes bein said here
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Hey yo, hey yo
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Hey yo Uncle L, let's go...
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Yeah man, I wanna check out my man Big Money Grip
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Yo, what's up, man
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Kick a little somethin
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Kick out the can and slam
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Summertime, C.I.A. step into the jam
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Reach for the mic, and the punks start to fold up
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And the brothers start fleein like it's a hold-up
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Some step aside, but a few play me close
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Never worry, cause the brother who cross me's gettin burried
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And the fool who wants to deal with another dose
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I see to it in a hour that the mutha is comatose
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Farmers Boulevard, the place
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Handin me a mic is like givin a chainsaw to Leatherface
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Smokin MC's in an instant
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At my side bustin caps is T-Boogie, my assistant
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Throw that speaker in the trash
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Why's that? Cause Gangster Boogie gave the woofer a gash
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Big Money Grip makin you get up
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Farmers Crew's in effect, we never heard of a head-up
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Yo, yo, yo
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It's kinda funky out here on the boulevard, yo
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Yeah, we livin chinese people in a turkish bath, baby
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Hi C over there, man
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Yo, what's up Hi C...
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Hi C on the scene, at last to bust a funky rhyme
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More than a line on time, because I'm gettin mine
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Never underestimate the skill of a great one
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The Boulevard Lord, shorts, never take none
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Another funky rapper from around the way
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Leavin bodies at a party, cause somebody gotta pay
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Boy, you been told, put your lips on hold
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All you remember is a barrel and a mouth full of gold
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Spreadin terror on the street like they was in the past
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Any punks on the block, yo, never could last
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And I never feel sorry for a sucker I gained on
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Any slick talker, yo, he's bound to get rained on
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At any Farmers party at my side is a Mag
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(One time a sucker got ill and went out in a bodybag)
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Fear will erupt through the heart of another
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The Farmers Crew will never fall, that's word to the mother
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Yo, yo
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It's kinda funky out here
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Yo, yo, yo, Hi C
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Yo man, y'all kinda funky out here, yo
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I was -
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Yo, what's up?
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[ crew member ] ...9 years ago, man
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Youknowmsayin?
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Farmers Boulevard, baby
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Yo, I was kinda -
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I was kinda stagnant to sleep on it
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But yo, L
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Won't you - won't you sum it all up for the people, aight?
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Aight, let me sum this up
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Now you heard the brothers speakin bout the street that we're from
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Rhymes hittin, beats kickin, you can't get none
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F-a-r-m-e-r-s passin the test
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Marley Marl in the |