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<Chorus>
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These rhythms can't deface me
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Hot rhythms stimulate me
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Can't help but swing it boy
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Swing it brother swing
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Don't stop the beat that's
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slapped this foolish brat
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Come on swing me boys
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Swing it brother swing
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<9th Prince-Over Chorus>
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Word up, let's take 'em to war, son
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Show 'em how it should be done
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It's real God
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Yeah, Yeah
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Stimulate the brain cells
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Check it, Check it
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<9th Prince>
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Yo Killarmy bounty killers
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Industry kid shivers
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Shells up through your liver
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Dead corp float the rivers
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Murderous style is superior from Shaolin to Nigeria
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Stalking through the monitor
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With the wisdom for dynamical fessor (?)
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Lyrical kid in processor
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Nat Turner was my militant ancestor
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I capture your mind put in isolation
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Control the soul automation
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Victims became mechanical slaves again
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Read the East Coast historian
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As you oppose this
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Your walking dead soldiers can't get close to this
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I be splitting shit like Moses
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Then celebrate with Guns 'n Roses
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I turn soundtracks into startracks
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My tongue is symbolic to an axe
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I used to be caught up in the world of Mad Max
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Now come against the consequence of the 9th Prince
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I sit upon my throne and chop off domes
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Then send them home to your peoples
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So they can sew 'em
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<Chorus-First Half>
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<Dom Pachino>
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Thoughts I generate like high forms of energy
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My brain's energetic
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Ultramagnetic synthetic
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Burn like oil
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High octane let it drain upon the Shaolin soil
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You get trapped inside my rap coils
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Like my phalanges rip the microphone
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When I recite a war poem
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It's writen in my soldier's log
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It's a Killarmy espionage
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Puerto Rican mobster in camouflage
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Perform at the Mirage my entourage
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Get the ticket through Telecharge as I massage lyrics get enlarged
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Grenade particles rip through your fatigue articles
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You flee for shelter
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My tre pound rounds'll melt you
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Like camouflage vinyl in the force of Delta
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<Chorus-Whole>
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<Killa Sin-Over Chorus>
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What, what, one time
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Come on, swing it
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Bring it, what
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Killarm, yeah, swing it
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The Gods gonna bring it
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Real, what
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<Killa Sin>
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Yo, yo
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You either get down shut the fuck up or catch an uppercut
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Rough enough to muffle up your jaw when we knuckle up
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Knuckle what? Bacardi hit me harder than you
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You crash dummies show respect when the Gods is coming through
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Eyes swollen up the size of coconuts
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Your body folding up
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Allah the soldier struck and through the cut I walk and hold you up
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Sit back hang from your hip like loose Kani's
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Try to flip it on the strength of your wis' and let you slide
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Savage eighty five trying to test sides
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True we're living thirty two shots
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We're sending a rocket to your prison
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Caught you bubbling
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Like a cold sore the money coming in
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Juggling the church and street life you got me wonderng and catch 'em
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I let Allah bless 'em
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That's the question
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You dealing with a madman's profession
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So choose your weapon
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<?-Chorus Heard in Background>
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Word up, Killarmy
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Taking y'all to another war ground
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Hold down the battlefield, word up
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Shout outs to all my Universal Soldiers
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Killarmy, word up
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Deep Space 9, the Clan, word up
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Sunz of Man
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My nigga High Style, word up
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To all the soldiers in all the fifty two planets
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New York, Ohio
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Philadelphia, word up
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My Anna locked down Atlanta, for real
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Little Rock, Miami
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Pittsburgh, word up
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Washington D.C., upstate for real
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To all my juvenile niggas that's locked up in Tober Center
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Word up, Ryker's Island
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Peace to Big Queen (?) and Supreme
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Word up the God and General Wise
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General Wah
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Word up to the last soldiers
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My nigga Islord still locked down in the jungle, son
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Word up keep your sword up son, Killarmy gonna represent this shit, son
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Word up, peace
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Get out of here
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Peace
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-----------------
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Swinging Swords
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Killarmy |