Homie, don't bother this fatherless child
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Niggaz wit problems get shot in the eusophagus, set off the apocolypse now
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the projectiles choppin' you down
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cock it and blaaw
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robbin' you for every profit in ya pocket and smile
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My cannon dismantle you, let it off like roman candles
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point two nines at you with bandana's on the handles
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blast through ya flannels
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we just Sopranos smashin' in astro vans with ammo stashed in the panels
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we animals when it's drama
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move like mechanical anaconda's, we hannibals, cannibals, and piranha's
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the last nigga with info that hand over the fed's
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the homie's jumped in the hummer, ran over his head
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hand over your bread
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we snatch you out your land rover, choke ya
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smoke ya while we stand over your bed
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just to let ya know, this is westcoasonostra
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ever since Pac passed you thought the westcoast was over
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but look closer and you're liable to find
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My homicidal recitals' the kind that inspires a guy to rewind
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king of survival, the title is mine
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I write for ya spine and stifle ya mind with a cycle of triflin' rhymes
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It ain't a gangsta that us hustlaz won't reach
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we bust just to touch the cold streets
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you bustas won't cease
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and that's why my next tattoo will say "no justice, no peace..."
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plus "fuck the police"
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(yeah.. that's how we do this shit... Rap 101)
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(yeah, get your bars up)
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(your metaphors and similies ain't right)
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(ya know what I'm talkin' about?)
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(you old niggaz, just keep a fresh swagger)
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(you new niggaz, learn your history in this hip-hop culture and you'll be alright)
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(this is the art of MC'ing.. this is Rap 101)
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(listen and learn..)
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Nigga, I wish you would speak on my label
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I'll walk in your house, put my feet on your table, see what's on cable
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soon as you speak, shots leave you leakin' from navel
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rock you to sleep in a cradle, you geeks weak and unable
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we can disable haters from Tennessee to Diego
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Long Beach to Vallejo
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law low, a yo, we givin' niggaz wings and a halo
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squeezin' them thangs so easily without seein' a reason to say no
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they ask, "why ya by yourself?"
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cuz I walked into the firearm store, tried to buy the entire shelf
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to jackers out to acquire wealth
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I fire shells, while ya yell, I serve ya like the hired help
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My science are sins, my mind tire within
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the bad guy wins like the giant got goliath's revenge
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puttin' 5 in ya benz, tie up ya wife in it then
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quiet your friends with gunfire as maniacal rhyme sire begins to strike like
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a viper and snipe ya again
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you can recite what'cha like but ya fight for ya life cuz the "I" can ignite
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the mic and he's slightly tighter than you when he write with the pen
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who's rivalin' him?
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(It's Rap 101)
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(teachin' you the art of MC'ing)
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(I hope you all takin' notes out there, ya know)
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(or I'm a flunk you dumb asses)
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(yeah, get them metaphors up)
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(get your patterns and rhyme schemes together)
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(how you gonna let my timin' be better than your rhymin'?)
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(It's Rap 101)
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(to all you A&R's out there...)
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(if it don't sound like this, it don't like shit...)
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(yeah, it's Rap 101...)
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-----------------
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Rap 101
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Crooked I |