| Give me, give me, give me the juice
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| Give me, give me, give me, give me the juice
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| Another day in the life, no time for play I’m tryin' to cake,
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| High stakes survival, increasing my fire rate
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| Eyes dilated, aim my sight fly straight
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| If I ever want my record to see the light of day
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| I’mma find a way, weight of the world need a lift
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| If we carry bags I know we gon' need a tip,
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| You’re free to give my man but I don’t need a disk,
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| With the grip of tracks, it’s really nothing for me to skip,
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| We the creed of a better breed and you never read and
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| Since you never see it son that’s, if’n you ever see us,
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| My nemesis, why you being a Ebenezer?
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| I’ll be seein' sights sippin on somethin' with señoritas,
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| Pro political peace, let 'em read
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| With a Palestinian, Israeli or Lebanese,
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| Behold the horse I’m paler to ever be
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| I’m tryin to catch some while I’m sailing the seven seas
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| I float my friends, scuttle my enemies and we
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| Constantly in the struggle for energy,
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| I rock steadily in the spot ready or not
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| Pushin' my pronouns for plenty plenty a pop,
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| I’m getting guap my man I got plans
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| To cop land away and lay in in the hot sand,
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| I 'Know the Ledge', playin' my Roxanne,
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| Another dollar another day in the rock band,
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| It’s juice!
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| Give me, give me, give me the juice
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| Give me, give me, give me the juice
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| Crawling out of the casket, I woke from madness,
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| I’ve been in the media feeding off the sadness,
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| If any an enemy coming rattling as if,
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| He ready for Armageddon now wet him in acid
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| I’ve been in the back bitch, playing the sidekick
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| Surprise they realize the size of my dick,
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| They blog and criticize the lines of my shit,
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| Straddle up on a iron alone and you ride dick,
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| Better get him a stretcher, an oxygen mask,
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| Socks and gym bags, box of Slim Fast,
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| I lose dead weight, got a lot to get past,
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| For all that hate, I’m about to get cash,
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| I ain’t got a chain yet, you’re hearing the same vet,
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| Could say that I’m lucky I made it out of a train wreck,
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| Want me to speed it up motherfucker it ain’t Tech
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| It’s Godemis idiots study up on on the name check!
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| I zone in the canvas, I’m in the paint, they ain’t -- ready
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| I spray seven or eight I’m alive to aim steady
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| It’s like me and Jason using the same 'chete,
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| So 'Raw' I’m 'Delirious' nigger it ain’t Eddie!
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| It don’t matter I don’t chatter at all to y’all,
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| The new data is out of an old catalog,
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| The instinct is that of an old rabid dog,
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| Who might have been good on that day but he got it all
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| That’s juice!
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| Give me, give me, give me the juice
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| Give me, give me, give me the juice
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| Wakin' him up, shakin' the fuck
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| Outta Pagans that are mating fornicatin'
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| With hate and sick lust,
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| Eatin' bloody steak and bacon with Satan
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| They can abrup-tly be taken by Yates
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| And I’m placin' this blade in his guts,
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| Amazing to us sleknov raisin' a cup here’s to,
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| Layin' the blade today who bathin' in blood Bedlam,
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| Might behead ya psyches dead for life he bled
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| But Ike said to knife these Negras!
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| Bright ran away for the night I’m a sinner
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| Hate my inner light when I stray see the fright,
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| I generate… I innovate in the fight I’mma incinerate a mic!
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| Men obey when I write they disintegrate!
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| It’s over, soul of a soldier
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| Chose to be cold and overload ya with vulgar
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| S’posed to be old but the flows gettin' bolder
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| And hoes lose they clothes never holdin' they composure
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| That’s juice! |
| …Bitch!
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| Give me, give me, give me the juice
|
| Give me, give me, give me the juice |