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    [featuring opio]
    Extra pro:
    Yeah
    I can feel this
    Been holdin' mics longer than don cornelius
    Will this ever end
    Not 'till i seal this
    Challenging your style reveal this
    To you wack niggaz
    Phuck the trigga (get on the ground)
    And try to peel this
    'cause i'ma heal this meaning your wounds and scars
    Froze your flows compose you down from g to r
    Then expose you to the star
    That i caught you in
    And plus this motherphucka' brought a friend
    So you're not scary, very silly really
    Nothin' puffin' out ya chest
    I doubt ya fresh
    And billy's bluffin'
    And so it's cool for you to do
    Your clout was less soon as you did that
    Ya shit's wack
    Forget rap
    There's extra robes in your choir stand while you admirin'
    The niggaz in higher places who are firin'
    You weak shit so knock on
    Opio they wanna be dropped on (come on give it to 'em)
    Opio:
    Yeah
    Hieroglyphics rock on
    Outlastin' the niggaz graspin' on to the past
    When they was everlastin'
    Let the times pass 'em
    Now they gaspin' for breath
    With nothin' left
    They used to be def
    I guess they blacked out
    They need to back out
    Wack wasn't our shit from jump
    I never did give a damn about a punk mc
    My sworn enemy
    I live to see 'em all fall off
    Just memories
    'cause we the uncontested
    Hieroglyphics unimpressed wit' (what)
    The shabby competition, they gets left quick
    Plus these r&b niggaz on they dick
    They betta' stick to singin'
    Stop clingin'
    To the real shit, listen
    Get a clear understandin', this is competition
    Demandin'
    You can't get a hand in
    I stay on top, i'm never landin'
    Leavin' mc's scramblin'
    I keep 'em grounded
    They can't compound slick lyrics together
    Never had it in 'em, better
    Leave that shit alone
    Simp to the women for a minute
    That's how ya livin'
    Give it up man, ya lost it
    Ya look exhausted
    Ya betta' off wit' the
    Heartbreaks, singin' backup
    'cause ya slackin' tremendously, ya never win
    Ya mic gets smacked up
    Disagree (huh), ya disallusioned
    'cause ya losin', jerk
    Take some time out
    Stutterin', can't even get ya phuckin' rhyme out
    Who da champ?, who da joke?, let's find out
    Straight out the o' and niggaz love me fo' it
    The mack poet
    Down wit' extra pro, it don't stop y'all
    And niggaz can't catch up
    Unmatched, diggin' niggaz on the mic
    I'm such a pimp
    And don't attempt, ya can't touch me
    Shut that shit up, ya weak (yeah)
    I make the freaks get up
    [chrous:]
    "(it don't stop)don't stop(don't quit)don't quit x4
    (we gotta' come wit' the funky shit)"
    Extra pro:
    Now hieroglyphics ain't no motherphuckin' joke
    So soak, in the liquids and bottles of dopeness
    I won't be so subtle to rope this
    Around ya neck
    We got respect
    Hocus pocus
    Try ta focus
    Ya see into me and
    Ya read into the beats
    Sweet
    Is my style, i'm disturbed
    I got a list and mile
    Of mc's that don't pile the right vowels
    I'll, listen and laugh (ha, ha, ha...)
    While you don't have what we have, i'm dismissin' yo' staff
    And if you ain't followin' then you missin' the wrath
    Have you forgotten, i'm fed up
    Shut up, when i'm speakin'
    While you're seekin'
    A style we rock on the weekend
    Now you're peekin'
    At me and my man while we're freakin', reekin'
    The smell of funks
    Punks, get the leakin' (ha)
    From the dillz (but they still ain't fresh)
    Time ta chill. . .

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    Información de la canción

    Composición: A. Carter y Duane Lee

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