| One little, two little, three little indie rap
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| Headphones, backpack, watch 'em all…
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| It goes watch out!
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| Jack the Ripper, Jack Jack the Ripper
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| Peace to Jack Tripper and those Wellstone bumper stickers
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| My name is Sean and I never had dreadlocks
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| Instead I got an army full of women screaming Headshots!
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| I guess that explains it, don’t it
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| She started to make a mark but it came apart
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| That’s what you get for tryin' to make your little sister eat the kitty litter
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| Let’s watch a rapper get bitter like the city winter
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| What the fuck you thinkin'!?
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| You frustrated or something? |
| Did you have a bad week?
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| Man, you got issues, I feel sorry for you
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| Yo, shitting on me is so 2002 (Bitch!)
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| Turn your mic off, and turn the lights off
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| Whoever put your record out must have needed write-offs
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| Who they play when the game’s in a tight spot?
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| Slug, you can find me in the A’s of your iPod
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| Watch out!
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| When the crowd gets loud
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| It could burn up the roof or make the walls all fall down
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| Watch out!
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| When you open up your mouth
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| I can smell that you don’t know what you’re talking about
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| (It goes) Watch out!
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| We all love a clown
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| But we don’t wanna se you climb up out the underground
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| Watch out!
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| If you don’t like the sound
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| Fuck you! |
| I’m just tryin' to put it down for my home town
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| Cars drive by with the booming system
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| I must be getting old cause the bass sounds ridiculous
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| And nowadays, every body’s biting 2Pac
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| So fuck it, I’mma stand over here and do the moonwalk
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| Besides police, I’ve got no beef
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| Just me, my beliefs and my bad teeth
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| A cargo van and some Ant beats
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| Enough rap to slap you to last week
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| Caught between the vice and the advice
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| Drunk, walking out in traffic just to fly kites
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| Time out, the free-style rhyme out, my last rights
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| Fuck a classic album, give my life 5 mics
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| And when the smoke clears, you won’t be able to suck dick
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| Like you did as a teenage slut trick
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| And with a mat on his grill, he asks «Who the fuck are you?»
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| Don’t worry man, someday I’ma be nobody too
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| Look, I understand your hate
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| When I was younger, I wanted to be LL Cool J
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| Then he started making records for the girls and shit
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| So I ripped up the Kangol and threw it away
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| I stole moves from KRS-One
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| A little Big Daddy Kane and some DJ Run
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| And then we took our life and made it a song
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| And look, nowadays Rhymesayers is on
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| It’s the B-I-G D-A double D-Y S-E-A-N
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| He hasn’t hit the rooftop to jump, guess he waitin'?
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| For what? |
| I don’t know, but who wanna come with me?
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| I got at least one more tool with me
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| So criticize me, or idolize me
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| Study from a distance or stand right beside me
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| It don’t matter, just act like I know
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| And watch your back on the beat
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| Or get sacked at the free throw |