| I’m the best ever, I’m the most brutal and vicious
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| And most ruthless champion there’s ever been
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| There’s no one can stop me, there’s never been nobody who could ---
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| I’m Sonny Liston, I’m Jack Dempsey, there’s no one like me
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| I’m from their cloth, there’s no one who can match me
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| Praise be to Allah!
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| Just jewels, no crew heavy, my inside pants lay
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| Come packing like two machetes, one ratchet
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| Two clubs and a mask, jumping out a green rover
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| Niggas balling me down, that’s when I reached over
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| Figured they ain’t got no manners, young boys round here
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| They don’t know my status
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| See niggas looking for a full time jack move
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| But they don’t know, that these blades here crack dudes
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| Give it to them quick, something like fast food
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| Take a nigga gun like, you gon' blast who?
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| Cinderella girl, fronting in them glass shoes
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| Homo thug, bitch ass nigga, I smash you
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| You mad, 'cause you rocking a shit bag, smelling like piss
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| When it popped, ya click ran, you fucking with powerful men
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| Come value your business, it ain’t all gravy
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| You pussy niggas, you’se the Avon lady, fuck you
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| We scuffle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle
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| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle
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| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle
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| Stay on your side, or get your life bubbled
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| (We tussle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle
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| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle
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| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle
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| Stay on your side, or get your wig knuckled)
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| Yo, I hit 'em up with the snubs, puff the bigger buds
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| So sinister, a John Dillinger, yeah, I’ve been a thug
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| Fire all cylinders, swing with gritty love
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| Smooth talk, watch a moonwalk up in the club
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| I’m like Michael Jackson without the glitter glove
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| Go get it for sure, that’s right, a jitterbug
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| A minister of death, came back to finish ya
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| At the tip of the missile, a fish, you been a scud
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| That’s right, it’s in my blood, damn, what’s in them drugs
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| They make you spit slugs, leave marks in the floor
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| Yo, I stomp through the yard, I march through the hall
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| Charles Bronson them hard, Jack Johnson your jaw
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| If I sell out, yo, I’m copping some more
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| Get the hell out, or I’m popping the four
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| Shell pour out, big boxes of bullets
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| Your snotbox is bust, when I cock to the fullest
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| We scuffle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle
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| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle
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| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle
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| Stay on your side, or get your life bubbled
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| (We tussle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle
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| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle
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| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle
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| Stay on your side, or get your wig knuckled)
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| Consider me pissed off
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| Them swiners better throw in they hog trough
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| 'Fore I blast the hot shot of Smirnoff
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| Rhymes contrast to an airplane crash
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| I precede the aftermath of an acid bath
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| Take a leap from the Hyatt, and walk home bloody from a riot
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| And still stay chubby on a diet
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| Chicken in Michigan, get ya head crushed with a Michelin
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| It’s obvious, the God ain’t settling
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| Reputation and ego, buried in ghetto cathedrals
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| Blow the Ruger, brothers wanna through rubbles
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| Rock fight avalanches and ambushing
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| Contaminated bitches, dirty dishes and dope pushes
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| I dreamt plus I get a rush from a toilet flush
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| It wasn’t us, it was Paul and his brother
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| Uncle and four cousins, they had to die like the Dirty Dozen
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| I guzzle punks like 22's
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| Embezzle words and verbs, and interval avenues
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| It’s important to be caution, click of this magnitude is remorseless
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| We eat the fucking cake without the frosting
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| Contents contained, shackles his splattered brain
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| Ever since Killah Priest was ordained
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| I’m bringing back the revelry, I had with Beverly
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| And half of you corn niggas is greener than celery
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| Fuck outta here
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| We scuffle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle
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| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle
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| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle
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| Stay on your side, or get your life bubbled
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| (We tussle, raps and cracks, it’s a known hood hustle
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| Through the bus stop, under the train trussle
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| Forty five degrees, divide the block muscle
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| Stay on your side, or get your wig knuckled)
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| My style is impetuous, my defense is impregnable
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| And I’m just ferocious, I want your heart
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| Praise be to Allah! |