Now on some battlin shit, my verbal lateral grip,
leeps my tongue glued to the A-Dat when I'm trackin' my shit,
Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips,
And make you rappers have fits 'cause I'm back in the mix,
Fuck a pad and a pen, write rhymes on a IBM,
Ebonics is dead, the binary language is in,
"Trouble" practices in a room wit a thousand candles lit,
Meditatin on this rap shit,
Because my freestyle reigns sovereign,
Wt a deeper conscience than the prophet Muhammad was born wit,
My brain cavity is enormous,
My left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the seven chakras
While the right one harnesses darkness
The type of dark that makes a house haunted,
The type of dark that niggaz get lost in,
The type of dark you fear when you dead in the coffin,
I hear you talkin, but I ignore it,
Cause it's garbage and your rhyme's borin ,
So keep standin on the corner,
We trash man'll collect you in the mornin,
Fuck that, real Rugrats can get it on black,
Meet me at The Tunnel where pussy niggaz get mugged at,
So dark you never see the blood splat,
And you can't even react,
Cause the trunk is where you keep the guns at,
Now you on speed, cause you too scared to come back,
You can't even breathe, the weed suffocates your lung sacs,
Fake MC's haul ass like they runnin track....
Teedibee what's crackin
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You talkin about ya brain cavity enormous
well how about we explore it
Talkin bout darkness nigga your painted pretty pink in roses
naw my bad he just mad cause posed nude for micheal jackson with some roses
cuts of diamonds 2 or 3 poses
ask ya boy how easy it is for him to hit his high note
just to have something stuffed in his mouth and something white drippin down his throat
told you about runnin your mouth
I'm show you why we dirty in the SOUTH
Every once you got to slap a puss and let them know where their place is
So don't get out of line and close ya mouth
Remember I'm the KING of the STREETS
and Lyricist from the SOUTH
Lyricist from the A
KING of the STREETS
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once you see us step out these doors you know its on/grab a fifth and by the end of the night , gotta bitch gone/rollin in the cadi, you know how we be/hit the hood grab l, and pop some l.s.d/smoke that fire, that shit thatll make ya lungs colapse/we just stepped outta rehab and already relapsed/2:30 fresh steppin out the clubs/ got them nigga'z starin at us while we rollin on dubs/holla at my nigga standin on the block/reach under my seat grab my glock/ if you scared go church,or better yet call the cops/cuz if ya keep fuckin around wit me ya gonna be hearin my gun pop/its already 2003/and yall bitches still cant fuck wit me/
>course
just how good were the good ole days/ it was all about smokin weed and gettin payed/ gettin drunk and gettin laid/but god will answer me on Judgement Day/ what would he say/ sayit again/ (repeat the cousre)
i hope theres a heaven a heaven fo hustler'z/cuz i know theres a hell a hell fo gold-digger'z/i try to pray/but i think of the wordz to say/i think if i write em down ill remember em the next day/if not i guess im goin straight to hell/ but i cant think of the differnce between death and this jail cell/ so tell me again what eles am sopposed to do/when my whole life i was brought up to hate you/Father forgive me for i have sinned/ i got much time , cuz soon me life will end/
>course
i know the life aint goin to last for ever/ i know the heavens above have gottz to be better/i never gonna put down the mic. /but i got stop to get right/ that means no mo' gettin high/ no mo' hulstlin to get by/i once was lost but now im found/ since i let the henny bottle hit the ground/i once was b lind but now i see/since i let go of that l.s.d/i wanna say im sorry fo all the hard times/ i dont know where to start so sit back -n- write it in these rymes/i ask for forgiveness/ i put down that hustin bussiness/i what eles am i sopposed to do/ when i die i just wanna to next to you/i kicked for somany dayz/ thats why i changed those fucked up wayz/
>chourse
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You say your da KING of the STREETS,
a lyricist from the SOUTH
on some petty Gangsta shit,
whos running their mouth?.
I got material thats bottomless,
while you remain anonymous.
Check out the situation, im on top of this.
Your lyrics sound so monotonous.
The shit that you wrote is so cliche ridden,
id hate to see what you sound like when your spittin
think your raps are tight, shit you must be trippin
Go figure?! just another dime a dozen nigga.
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