Its all bad now man, its all bad
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it's all fucked up now
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Yeah ha ha, new shit, hey yo
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I just want the whole world to know:
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That I did not start this, but I will finish it
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Comin up it never mattered was color you was
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If you could spit then you could spit, thats it, thats what it was
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Back when, motherfuckers was straight back packin
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Cypherin, fightin for life in this rap
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for the mic to get past and you psyched and you gasped
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and you hyped cuz you last and you might whoop some ass
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If you lost then you lost shake hands like a man
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and you swallowed it, when the unsigned hype column
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at The Source was like, the only source of light
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When the mics used to mean somethin, a four was like
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you were the shit, now its like the least you get
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three and a half now just means you a peice of shit
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four and a half or five, means you Biggie, Jigga, Nas,
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or Benzino shit I don't eben think you realize
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you playin with motherfuckers lives, I done watched Dre
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get fucked on The Chronic, probably cuz I was on it
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Now you fucked me outta my mics twice I let it slide
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I said I wouldnt hold my fuckin breath to get a five
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Shit I was right, I'da fuckin died already tryin
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I swear to God I never lie I bet thats why
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you let that bitch give me that bullshit review
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I sat and took it, I ain't look at the shit we knew
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You'd probly try to fuck us with Obie and 50 too
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{(::haach-poo::)}
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Fuck a relationship we through
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No more Source with street credit, them days is dead
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Dre's got A-Ks to dave mase his head
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Every issue there's an eight page Made Men spread
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Will somebody please tell whoever braids his head
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That I am not afraid, hes just a fuckin waste of lead
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on my pencil, for me to write some shit this simple
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So listen closely, as I break it down and proceed
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This old Gs bout to get smoked like rolled weed
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You don't know me or my motherfuckin mother you motherfuckin punk
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Put me on your fuckin cover just sell your little sell out mag
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I ain't mad I feel bad, heres an ad, heres a poster of Ray-Ray and his dad
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You wanna talk about some shit that you dont know about? ya
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Lets talk about how your puttin you own son out there
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And to try to eat off him, cuz you missed your boat
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Your never gonna float bitch you're just too old
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No wonder you're sore now, lordy ya board now
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I'm pushin thirty you kickin fourty's door down
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Bitch this is war now, and you'll never beat me
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all you do is cheat me out of quotables but you know
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that you'll always see me on your TV
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Cuz you gotta stay up till three in the mornin
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To see your video played once on BET
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So he-he-he who has the last laugh?
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Aftermath ya so on behalf on our whole staff
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kiss our ass-hole cracks we'll never fold or hold back
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Just know that Benzinos wack
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no matter how many times I say he's stan, hell never blow jack
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Your better off tryin to bring R-S-O back
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Look at your track record thats how far it goes back
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Its extortion and Ray owns a prportion
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so half of the staff up there is fresh outta jail from boston
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Bullyin and bossin, caged like a slave they've completely brainwashed him
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And forced him to stay locked in his own office afraid of the softest
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fakest, wannabe gangster in New York
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And its pitiful, cuz I never woulda said shit to you if you'd kept your mouth shut
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Bitch now what? hit it clue, spit it slay
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New shit, exclusive yo lantern, yo whoo kid
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You know what to do with this: use it
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I'm through, this is stupid, I cant believe I stooped to this
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bullshit to do this...
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And who you callin a bitch? Bitch. You owe me.
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-----------------
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The Sauce(Benzino Diss)
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Eminem |