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[Kool Keith]
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Yeah motherfucker.. that's right..
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The motherfucker in the house.. Kool Keith..
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Fuck all the bullshit, let's get to the real shit..
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Yeah..
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Your rhyme touch is soft kid
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like a stripper's ass with a touch of plastic
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Writin with a local style
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talkin about competitive shit you never mastered
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Youse a wannabe thug nigga, you ain't bugged nigga
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I cut your bitch-ass up, leave your legs under the rug nigga
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Who want the whiplash?
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Cigarette burns, broken face hair pinned up in a cast
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Me standin on the top of your tour bus
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Butt-naked with a fuckin hockey mask
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Slicin your cashmere with a sharp 7-Up glass
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Don't you know I'm sick nigga? Lick my dick nigga!
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Forty-four caliber killer gun-toter
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Hide your kneecaps in a Lexus motor
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Pack your stomach in a compartment
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Old dingy fucked up Bronx apartment
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Don't piss me off with a tec-9 loaded in a bullshit street argument
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I don't care how hard you get
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You just another man that never lived in the projects poppin shit
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You ain't stoppin shit, fuck that Batman and Robin shit
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and what block you with
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Kneel down, make a nigga like you call me Big Ernest
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Bake your intestines, throw your stomach in the furnace
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Watch the thermostat, you ain't no fuckin fat cat
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Chorus: Kool Keith
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[sung] You never lived in the projects!
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You ain't no drug dealer
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*repeat Chorus 3X*
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[Kool Keith]
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Rude bwoy with a temper like a Jamaican off a Haitian boat
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Carribean ruckus - with an Elvis wig
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slap the piss out of one of you untalented rap motherfuckers
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Bodyguards won't work
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with a 30-shot car bomb under my Dominican shirt
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Submachine in the duffle bag
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Watchin Sesame Street with my daughter, peepin Ernie and Bert
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With backstage passes, wearin a long trenchcoat
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Get Morris in your projects
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and Jackson in a Madison Square Garden concert
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Ready for CBS and NBC, to do a big network
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The average guy, havin a product manager
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and a female publicist wearin a fuckin bulletproof vest
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I got time for motherfuckers actin like Elliot Ness
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Winchester sawed off blow your Rolex through your fuckin chest
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Splatted body pieces while blood drips off your girl's dress
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I'm ready for more progress
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Have your head sent home
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and a piece of your leg sittin on the record company desk
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Extort like a mad nigga Western Union
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You don't have a clue men how I get through men
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*repeat Chorus 4X*
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-----------------
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Lived in the Projects
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Kool Keith |