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作词 : Dumile, Gosman, Schmitz |
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Confirmation of your worst fears |
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Ever since his first years had a thirst for beers |
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Back from the future, it'll make you more sober-er |
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And brought back a long list of fakers who crossed over |
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I'm like, ************* it, bubble-baller |
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Catch ‘em up at Bob's show, stall him with a troubled caller |
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Bastard, who could make G's faster |
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Than a newly re-mastered while being truly plastered |
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There's four sides to every story |
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If these walls could talk, they'd probably still ignore me |
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Contemplate war over a cup of warm coffee |
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It's really getting gory, tell your problem to Maury |
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Don't bore V with the "glory, hallelu-ey" |
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Crews be like, foo-ey he's just a buncha hoo-ey |
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I knew he had new G, who he? Viktor Vaughn |
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He had a new sicker song, I think he call it "Lickupon" |
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Umm but uh, he study rhymes and patter-ins |
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Climb so steep sometimes the beat don't be mattering |
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Sounded like a half-dead from Scurvy band rock |
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A programmed, computer bio-grafted Herbie Han******** |
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Maybe next life he'll try harder |
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Died a martyr at the hands of the fire-starter |
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More scripts ripped available for via barter |
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Transport a stack to the lab via charter |
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On the microphone he came to daze and amaze ya' |
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What a guy, practice banging flies with razors |
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And watch out for the robot, he got eyes with lasers |
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Tell ‘em when they come with more topics besides blazers |
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Enough with the guns already, they're all toys and lames |
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The joy's in the aim, he asked him, how's ya' poison game? |
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Do you bust your cros*************ow? Also, more so |
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Accurate body blows to torso, thought so |
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These flows you won't find in no "how-to" |
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If the blacksmith doubt you, he smack the *************t out you |
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Make nothing gone, let nothing twitch |
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Just don't be near the mic when the on-button switch |
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V bring the beef like a trucker to Fuddrucker |
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Delivery to all y'all mother********s and bloodsucker |
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Copping more pleas than when a rap ************* bicker on |
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And that's my word is bond, I think he call it "Lickupon" |
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Umm, he wrote this one with a fever sick in bed |
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With his ******** inside a chickenhead |
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No, a dead chicken's head, he said it help his nausea |
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If he lost ya', wait ‘til he tell you about the flying saucer |
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Dag, the kickback'll leave your wig ragged |
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For a big bag of good grizzle and some Zig-Zag |
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Survival, keep a rival in denial |
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And bust what he get just for coming out his pie-hole |
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Die calmer than a suicide-bomber |
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V just the type to do a hoo-ride with momma |
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Said to James Bond, my name is Viktor, Viktor Vaughn |
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Told the chick the quickest way to get on, lickupon |