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So... he took some heroin... (unintelligible)... |
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On his arm... and it just died... |
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It just died. No cure... You can't... it died |
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There's no circulation |
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And it died so far |
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That they had to cut it off |
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He would've got gangrene... |
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So, you know, it's like... you ain't got a choice |
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It's like, "You wanna die? |
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Or you want me to cut your arm off?"... |
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(unintelligible)... |
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Actually, you ain't got a choice |
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They give you a shot, and cut it off |
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You don't like it when you wake up, kill yourself |
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[Verse 1] |
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Satellite Silverback, hairy gorilla of rap |
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I'm all business up front, but a killer in back |
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When I'm popping, keep them hopping like a mullet, in fact |
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Put out my hand, then I'm bringing it back (Too Slow!) |
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Up top, in the middle, down low |
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High-fives flying, never make a sound though |
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Ghost-clapping, when I'm rapping, keep the flame smoke-stacking |
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Just a crack and everybody in your town go "DAAAAAAMN" |
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Come around, talking 'bout you go ham |
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But I'm steady slicing into the beef |
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Freeze ready, throwing ice and then I shatter 'em, chief |
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Vent your skull from the unrelenting pressure; grey-matter relief |
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Trephination rap, I'm Pentecostal |
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Snake-charming, Appalachian medicine awful |
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Cold eye, stack chips -- Tending a brothel |
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Got them moving back and forth the way a senator waffles |
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[Hook] |
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Said you want to die? Want to cut your arm off? |
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Said you want to fly? Want to let a fucking bomb off? |
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No telling, I take an auger to the dome |
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Slice, slice, chop, chop - this is surgery at home |
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[Verse 2] |
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Sanitation engineer, the way I'm cleaning up shit |
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Said you better watch those cats that you're meeting up with |
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Think you're all Michael Knights, but they're scheming on KITT |
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Trying to wire the ignition cuz the key, it don't fit |
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And they're needing that shit, I'm blocking the thirsty |
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Got them all corralled up in an alley - Kirstey |
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In your comments, I am copping a firstie |
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Murk me? Never. Style too clever |
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That snap music's good, but the yellow bus better |
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Little nerds, wire-frames in your Canibus sweater |
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Half-assed Ninja Turtles, son, you'll never catch Shredder |
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Got two brains, I'm Krang |
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Ya'll fucking clowns are Lambchop, man, I'm Fang |
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I keep it all composed, but you pale in rage |
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Mick Foley - got you rolling on the mat before I scale the cage |