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Yeah! Kool Keith
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Black Sil (yeah yeah) and company!
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As we party.. two-zero-zero-zero
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[Kool Keith]
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Step in coat check, vocal supreme sound perfect
|
You wack man, haven't you heard this?
|
Matador king ladies swarm around me like Jon B
|
as I stop rappers tryin to copy Alpo(?) Rich Port(?) and AZ
|
My temperatures one-thousand-three
|
Look at these big head kids on labels tryin to MC
|
with a globe dome
|
I told you to tell that man to stay home
|
Tell Russell to call me with Sylvia Rhome
|
Gave him the gas, now he gotta pump in his ass
|
I don't care if you go out with Stacey Dash
|
Rentin cars, you tryin to copy Nas
|
Sound like A.G., you ain't my man from Cold Crush KayGee
|
Don't try to play me
|
You never made a record with Mo Bee, and Master P
|
I saw you on the Greyhound bus station floor
|
Layin down with a doo rag on like a circus clown
|
Strippers keep dancin around, I'm Bronx bound
|
Your fans catch migraines from me doin my thang
|
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Chorus: Kool Keith (repeat 4X)
|
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We sweet unique Pete
|
Look at these ladies massagin our feet
|
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[Black Silver]
|
Yeah
|
Yo showdown, sho' shot, double-K, flow pop
|
Navigate, interactive flashback
|
Now who nice wit it? Spit it on the block daily
|
Product, never shady, slang the real
|
Send it to backstage, flame created a rage
|
Mays(?) bump that in my mezzanine controller
|
High-roller, program, this shit jam
|
to quick access, asses on my lap crouches
|
Dip through; y'all need a piece of this mental
|
plus a sip of this dick in your mouth
|
Either that or stop sleepin, peepin the next man's style
|
I elaborate on fraudulent and stick to the wild
|
Phone-tap, we order Ocean Spray with that
|
Fuji film, honey spread that
|
Finger the asscrack in fact I'ma bounce with that
|
(Yeah, bounce with that)
|
|
[Kool Keith]
|
Fuckin dancers back to back
|
Aww yeah
|
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Chorus Two: Kool Keith (repeat 4X)
|
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We're sweet unique Pete
|
Ladies massagin our feet
|
|
|
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-----------------
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Sweet Unique Pete
|
Kool Keith |