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zuò qǔ : Easterwood, Epps, Watson ... |
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Welcome to misery punk, we deep rooted in this |
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You know what |
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I' m sayin' |
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KCMO, KCK, you know what |
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I' m sayin' |
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That' s how we do it, |
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Tech N9ne in this place |
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Trying to produce a record, say what |
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Welcome to misery where the killers pop it up |
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When I say pop it up |
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I mean deal it at the turn of the gun |
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We can do it if anybody want it, where the rapper niggas |
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They clappin' up and now they tell everyone |
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Misery loves company so we done with thee |
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Enemy when it be energy sendin' me the route |
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My negativity trippin' wit me, you runnin' for your life' |
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Cause you ran your mouth, mouth |
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We can sing or we can bang |
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It ain' t no game we untamed |
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Whether it' s fame or we can aim |
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Release your brains, it ain' t no thing Midwest Choppers |
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You heard what |
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I' m sayin' |
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We livin' in pain and it' s a shame |
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That you came and got drained |
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And listen man, stay in your lane Midwest Choppers |
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We can sing or we can bang |
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It ain' t no game we untamed |
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Whether it' s fame or we can aim |
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Release your brains, it ain' t no thing Midwest Choppers |
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You heard what |
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I' m sayin' |
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We livin' in pain and it' s a shame |
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That you came and got drained |
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And listen man stay in your lane Midwest Choppers |
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Find the witness to murderers monologue of a minute |
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Come out of a sinister formidable place |
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I can let you know the in' s and the out' s and |
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I can spit it wicked |
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Twisted and you can see by the look of my face |
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Give me the mic and |
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I' ma mangle it, tangle it |
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Definitely the people see that |
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I got the hang of it |
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Pig you gotta try to make a mockery of a city who |
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Pock ' em and block ' em why can' t you get it, we dangerous |
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Came to get strange with it, bang with it |
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Stop and get a little untamed with it |
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Get the chopper like a fully' ya bully with a hoodie |
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Soon to get up and take him out or split cane with it |
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Well the answer is right before your eyes |
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Who do you despise? |
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Killers who chop you |
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We gotta stop you, pop you partner, you gawfin' |
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Get up outta the way when |
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Techa N9ne be bustin' |
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Gotta give it up |
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I' m a veteran like |
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EdisonI' ma light ' em up and get in your head again |
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I' m better than ever, never let ' em feather |
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Invest it, be fed it since it separated |
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Hit the mic and then we buy a little medicine |
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I' ma Choppa, Choppa, Choppa |
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Automatic kickin' the ammunition |
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Killin' the competition know it ain' t nobody Hotta, Hotta, Hotta |
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Damagin' everythin' and everybody you know we on a mission |
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Listen to me, how can |
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I make you understand |
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I' m a general? |
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Even if you poppin' the competition in minimal |
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Can' t see the killers |
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And you can bet that we criminal |
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The thing inside of me keep on tellin' me when to go |
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So I' ma keep reppin' the |
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Midwest Choppers freakin' flows |
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And I' m about to be up on top of this and truly be bustin' |
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Beggin' for mercy you punk |
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I ain' t givin' you nothin', nothin' |
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We can sing or we can bang |
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It ain' t no game we untamed |
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Whether it' s fame or we can aim |
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Release your brains, it ain' t no thing Midwest Choppers |
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You heard what |
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I' m sayin' |
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We livin' in pain and it' s a shame |
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That you came and got drained |
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And listen man, stay in your lane Midwest Choppers |
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We can sing or we can bang |
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It ain' t no game we untamed |
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Whether it' s fame or we can aim |
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Release your brains, it ain' t no thing Midwest Choppers |
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You heard what |
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I' m sayin' |
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We livin' in pain and it' s a shame |
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That you came and got drained |
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And listen man, stay in your lane Midwest Choppers |
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Never worry we be the best whenever somebody take the bite |
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Ain' t talkin' about women, |
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I' m talkin' about paper |
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Be caught in a dilemma after the sin, already coded |
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They' re wounded, they' re competition would for sure |
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The killa must be like a fully damn brettin' made company |
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Tough with or with the |
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Baretta tucked right under my sweater |
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And we hide it in the lot where the blood of my killas |
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Be keepin' the apartment, partner you tight but my dealers are better |
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We keep a chopper like a blender eatin' boys up for dinner |
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The Guillotine will chop your hands of and throw ' em out the window |
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We' re too critical for you well your walkin' away lookin' so ridiculed |
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Why ADDB we be the number one contenders |
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When they come to the street whats the post on the block |
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For the killa |
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I' ma liftin' my middle finger up to the cop |
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So on the way to the studio we go ' bout makin' another hot track |
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They be lovin the way that we spin it when we try commentin' lots |
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And approach to the definition of a soldier |
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My opposition is the my cultural future |
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I split like atomic and anybody |
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MOY I' ma fond of make |
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Me and my killer guerrillas willin' ' cause we' re the corner boys |
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They tryin to battle ' cause they want our position |
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But they ain' t never gettin' in it, because the music is bigger here |
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Like I told you we' re number one competitors dealin' |
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We' ll connect with them to the top |
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And then we' ll stop till they get the millions |
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In the hone of the century they been walkin' the limbo |
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Chemistry you can never cross with them |
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Thinkin' inside that they either be as a mean ever polite Incomprehensible |
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You can try to read us, you can try to beat us |
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Try to get your speed up but it ain' t gon' matter' |
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Cause after we get bendin' bustin there gon' be no laughter |
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We takin' over the network, |
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Tech N9ne is the master, master |
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We can sing or we can bang |
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It ain' t no game we untamed |
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Whether it' s fame or we can aim |
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Release your brains, it ain' t no thing Midwest Choppers |
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You heard what |
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I' m sayin' |
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We livin' in pain and it' s a shame |
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That you came and got drained |
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And listen man, stay in your lane Midwest Choppers |
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We can sing or we can bang |
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It ain' t no game we untamed |
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Whether it' s fame or we can aim |
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Release your brains, it ain' t no thing Midwest Choppers |
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You heard what |
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I' m sayin' |
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We livin' in pain and it' s a shame |
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That you came and got drained |
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And listen man, stay in your lane Midwest Choppers Yelling my voice out loud |
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I get to representin' the city, get the cane |
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Holla your brain ' cause |
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I' m a disaster |
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Dalima get ready, get decibel comin' atcha |
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Leave ' em in a predicament ' cause |
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I' m a style master |
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And I' m impressionable now, just so ya know |
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I make ' em sweat ' cause |
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I' m best with the flow |
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Whenever you wanna flex, we can go, keep stressin' your code |
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And I' d rather make you dance on the floor |
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Midwest' s gonna flow like, she' ll flow with the more strike' |
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Cause the energy is the bomb |
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I can tell that you fascinated by the way we rhyme |
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And we glow like with the more strike with the fire |
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Baby, now you need to say it off' |
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Cause I' m sippin' on heindig and bustin' |
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Like your sendin' your enemy' s now |
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Irritated with the haters that be comin' around |
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So I kick it like a brother but with a |
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African style |
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Meetin' with them |
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I' really sure so, |
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I' m too sick for a cure so |
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And no need for a doctor my bod won' t work |
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Late in makin' yo nerves straight ' cause they caught ya |
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Hands down when |
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I popped ya, now |
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Let' s take a trip to the back of your real guilt |
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Strange individual with the mettle to ill skill |
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Public outnumber howlin' with the bro' s was real screwed |
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Get down ' cause the talks could be farce and big wheels |
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Talk with it, let me act like you get tough with it |
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When they talk, come out of truck' s bitichin' |
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Often there' s crane' s, you know |
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Killers gonna be devoted to leavin' yo bodies smokin' |
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But really you can' t get down, what is it? |
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An exchange problem' |
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Cause whenever |
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I' m bustin' it' s like a full heart stopper |
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Dalima, Tech |
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N9ne, Kaliko with |
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DLocRippin' up with the flow ' cause we |
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Midwest Choppers |
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We can sing or we can bang |
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It ain' t no game we untamed |
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Whether it' s fame or we can aim |
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Release your brains, it ain' t no thing Midwest Choppers |
|
You heard what |
|
I' m sayin' |
|
We livin' in pain and it' s a shame |
|
That you came and got drained |
|
And listen man, stay in your lane Midwest Choppers |
|
We can sing or we can bang |
|
It ain' t no game we untamed |
|
Whether it' s fame or we can aim |
|
Release your brains, it ain' t no thing Midwest Choppers |
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You heard what |
|
I' m sayin' |
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We livin' in pain and it' s a shame |
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That you came and got drained |
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And listen man, stay in your lane |
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Nigga nigga you better act right, get right' |
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Cause I' m the baddest nigga hookin' up with the fastest badass' s |
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Hit you with the lyrical, lyrical miracle whip incredible |
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Like to knock the head of a several |
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Diggy, diggy down what' cha piggy found |
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At the ccclownin' house |
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Is bound for your town diggy, diggy, diggy |
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And if you lookin' for the sound it can be found |
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With the nigga wearin' the crown, are you really with me? |
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And when you hear it then nigga then zip it |
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Dezip it, make you want to reposition your pivot |
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When we write it and spit it we makin' somebody get it |
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And if they wont' hear it then go live and forgive and forget it, stop |
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I write and keep babblin' on or rapplin' off at the mouth |
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While we travelin' when were diggin' it |
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I' ll speakin' about the things that |
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I' ll be doin' |
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Couple a scoop and |
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I pop my mouth free stylin' |
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But the road with you and you and you |
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And I can stop with the drop of the |
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CaribouAnd if they see me pop and their still with you and you |
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And I won' t hesitate to chop you until you, what they do with you? |
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And if you lookin' for the betterer the betterer to combust |
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You got the |
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Cali gun for fun |
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And if you throw people some black attitude |
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When you attack ' em on the checkamo, they putting down the gun |
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That Dalima is a chopper, |
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DLoc a chopper |
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That Tech |
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N9ne' s a chopper |
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Kaliko will knock your block off |
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You never see it come and hit you |
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When we gonna get runner, we walk off' |
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Cause is more than breath we want |
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And we come in here headhuntin' |
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But we won' t stop till we get to the top |
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Givin' the way that we' re |
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Midwest Chop, ya |
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Strange music bitch, seven years of excellence |
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T on T and |
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N, 9 and E, real numbers bitch |
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Now from us to you, |
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Tech N9ne collabo' s |
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Welcome to |
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Misery Loves |
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Company, and for all the haters |
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Fuckin' peasants, suit you, mother fucker, figure it out |