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    [Royce Da 5'9"]
    Fresh off the jet from just fuckin with Puff
    I'm feelin like the best, nobody - bring it back
    Fresh off the jet from just fuckin with Puff
    I'm feelin like the best, nobody fuckin with us
    We done turned to a bygone don crew
    We got the semi Kimora like Djimon Hounsou
    A lifetime criminal, live by a code we call shush
    Fireman ladder flow, look at it, my bar is up
    As you can see I'm a beast on the track
    I'm even worse, I'm the hearse with the reef on the back
    I'm like the gun at the race, son you only get one shot
    My album is the finish line, here's where your run stops
    'Bout to go fishin with a clip that's extended
    Because your momma got a glass eye with a fish in it (haha)

    [Chorus 2X: Iyana Dean]
    I-I think my, niggaz is soldiers
    I-I think my, bitches is gangstas
    I-I think my, niggaz is soldiers
    I-I think my, I-I think (HUT!)

    [Royce Da 5'9"]
    I get money, I get bitches, I get bored or - bring it back
    I get bitches, I get money, no specific order
    Filthy hit recorder, wipe or Ricky mixed with Ricky Porter
    Butchie Jones mixed with Mr. Combs with the tooky aura
    I'm a muh'fucker, no really I fuck mothers
    I chug bottles and pass out on they La-Z-Boy
    She try to leave them lil' niglets with me? Shiiit
    I treat 'em all like I'm Snoop Dogg in "Baby Boy"
    Leave me alone, I'm Hancock
    Liquor sto' close I'm swoopin 'round hittin the second-hand spot
    I don't fuck with no hoe unless she a dancer
    There's no position, drug or liquor she can't try
    I'm Cancer, me versus them is a landslide
    If your face is fly, and your body is decent
    This your inauguration the same time your impeachment
    I got a lotta anger - I was hot before your first shit
    Not your album, but before your momma potty trained ya

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    [Chorus]

    [Kid Vishis]
    Where my soldiers attack (it's a wrap)
    Hold up - when my soldiers attack, it's a wrap
    One clap'll lay you unconscious, bullets alpha-mega slap
    Cock grenade here, think we scared? No way
    Set yo' ass up like the cops did O.J.
    Fo' spray his body make his chest explode
    The barrel on the shotty wide as KRS's nose
    Partner, (Buck-shot) ya
    Rap like a automatic gun, lungs stoppin means you can't breathe proper
    Yeah, they like I'm on some other shit
    Whole clique hold heat like a oven mitt
    To fuck with this you want me on wax
    So I'ma tax you lil' local rappers worse than the government
    Bastard - the closest you niggaz been
    to a shotgun is in the car front seat passenger
    How 'bout you take a trip in the trunk?
    Ride to the pastor for a casket to hold ya; it's over!

    [Chorus]

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