[Intro: Armel]
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Uh-huh, GZA, uh, RZA, uh
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[Armel]
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Listen, if ya'll can spit, we can spit, please get it together
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Cuz anything you can do, I can do better
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Your imagine material looks, hotter behind looks
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Raise the fear, no one, but self, who's shook?
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Bring the plague like the revelations in the holy book
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Who's spot you took? Duke off the hook
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I'm from the land of the crook, life quit the end
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Better known as the Brook, rather tape then lend
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There's a lot of wack records, but this ain't one of them
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DJ's off the books, go 'head put the gun at them
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All groupie M.C.'s, I'm bout to start stunnin' 'em
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Don't matter what crew, every last one of 'em
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It's gettin' crowded in here, some acts got to go
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Let's start by eliminatin' groups that can't flow
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I better meal my deal, my career with no fear
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That none of ya'll group can touch what's over here
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[Chorus: GZA]
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These rough cut metal tapes
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Quick to break your label mates, won't hesitate
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Negotiate your table stakes, you can't flow right
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Or fuck with me on no night
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Fuck the slow light, you need to get your show right
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[Prodigal Sunn]
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Yo Justice, how many M.C.'s must get pistol whipped?
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Crack faces with bottles of Crys', hollow tips gobble lips
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That's the penalty for poppin' that shit
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Vanish in a colorless whip, bags of grip
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Doo-rags and clips, tag the strip
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You had the chance to advance, I'm sorry for the holes in
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your hip
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Son, It's the way of the street merchant, live by the laws,
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die by the rules
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My gleam play the part of a fool
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Now hear these jewels from a wise king, see what my eyes seen
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Ten year supreme, the theme, we sizzle-line and triple CREAM
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My grip'll off that digital bream, visual scene
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Roll footage on your video screen
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Globe patrol, Two On The Road, we never fold
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Snub react, GZA mack eliminate tracks
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Stimulate phat, Sunzini, nigga, gifted and black
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Now watch me mack to the kingdom of rap
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[12 O'Clock]
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Give me a beat, nigga dealin' battles like a thief
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Done killed more niggas than Jason in part 3
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Stay Wu, on the graveyard and this label
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Dum dums, that battle 12 O'Clock, now it's able
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So what, looked up and made the bitches clap
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That was because my style's clothes, not the raps
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Ain't that shit, props for the clothing
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Should of brought a mirror, cuz lyric wasn't rollin'
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My rhymes is all that and yours ain't shit
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And at a party, your bitch takin' crazy flicks of me
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She said I was nigga celebrity
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But I'm from the slums, with the bums drinkin' Hennesey
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Take a sip of some Jamaican rum
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Put fire to my lung, tongue, teeth and gums
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When it comes out my mouth, shit's hot and it burns
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Make fools out of bitches like I'm Howard Stern
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[Chorus 2X]
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-----------------
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Rough Cut
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Genius/GZA |