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    Where's the intruder?
    Looks like he went to the tower

    Before I rock raps, I drink a keg of Listerine
    Then I spit the freshest lines you'll ever hear for centuries
    Then I form blazing sword and cut your mic cords
    And kill them garbage rhymes only your friends get hyped for
    Blitz your whole team, them niggas need to come clean
    So I give 'em an acid wash like old school Levi jeans
    (Lockjaw!) Crackin' your faulty frame
    And I bring the house down without hijackin' planes
    Locked stocked with two smokin' barrels and will use it
    To fuck up more beats per minute than drum'n'bass music
    Trunks ain't a rapper, he's a monster from the future
    Twistin' your body in more positions than Kama Sutra
    Smart-ass, gettin' the Last Word with Jim Rome
    With a right hand like Dr. Claw that's known for breakin' bones
    I'll get you next time Gadget, next time
    We can have a close encounter of the fucked up kind

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    Time warp, set on

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