| This is, this is where the wild things are
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| Comin' to ya live!
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| Where the wild things are
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| I think… I don’t know, where are we comin' from? |
| Where is this place?
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| (You're where the wild things are)
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| This is, this is where the wild things are
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| Where the wild things are
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| This is, this is where the wild things are
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| Where the wild things are, where the wild things are
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| Lets get liquor from the fuckin' liquor store
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| And get way fucked up like we did before
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| Which way is up, I can’t tell no more
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| It’s been spinnin' and spinnin', my brain swimmin' and swimmin'
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| Hardcore I’m dirty as the floors in the project buildings
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| Raw three days straight, same dingy-ass draws
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| Rhyme style funky, yeah j-just like my balls
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| Gun clappers, my niggas will give you applause
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| A standin' ovation, you in violation
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| You bitch niggas lookin' like Rhythm Nation
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| Lookin' all glittery, saw a clitoris, pussy nigga literally
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| You need a pap smear, my near spread severe
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| Venereal diseases through the stereo Jesus
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| Hip hop need me to bring in the cure, pick up the pieces
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| Let’s move it move it move it, now as I proceed
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| My niggas and niggettes blaze up your weed
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| Rock on, real hip hop is back up in this bitch
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| Now put your lighters in the air, your lights in the air
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| Now wave 'em round and round, side to side hell yeah
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| Now wave 'em round and round, side to side hell yeah
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| I put my sports jersey’s and my Timbs back on
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| Ayo, hold up a second Bishop, man you know you dead wrong
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| It ain’t a real party if it ain’t with Honkey Kong
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| Let me fuck this mic up, it won’t take that long
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| Ayo, I’m every MC, it’s all of me
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| But I’m less Heavy D much more Steady B
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| So in static when the TEC stutter, hold it steadily
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| Keep it sturdy, flip the birdie, rip the ruger readily
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| In his belt strap, raps that disintegrate and melt wax
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| Lumps on your skull, better start rockin' elf hats
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| Ap never held back, never bit my tongue
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| Rather sever it and load it like a clip into a gun
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| I emergin', with swords I’m a surgeon
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| Keep the power surgin', like I decapitated the Kurgan
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| Label us «dirty version», fuckin' a dirty virgin
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| Fuck it, Ap is a vermin, chuggin' yak with the bourbon
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| The back of a suburban, head wrapped in a black turban
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| Observin' a bitch bobbin' her head in my lap burpin'
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| Bubbles I’m steady burstin', swoopin' and Silver Surfin'
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| Fightin', cussin', and cursin', rappers will know it’s curtains
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| Gotta stay current kinda like electric circuits
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| If verses ain’t perfect, they’re ineffective and worthless
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| Pray to who you worship, forfeit 'fore I pull the four fifth
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| Carry more coffins than a forklift
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| On a military base deep in Saigon
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| During Vietnam, with a ho singin' me a song
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| Like, «Ah, me so horny, me love you long time.»
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| Wearin' black, carry gats like kids in Columbine
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| Now put your lighters in the air, your lights in the air
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| Now wave 'em round and round, side to side hell yeah
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| Now wave 'em round and round, side to side hell yeah
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| I put my sports jersey’s and my Timbs back on
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| Change clothes nigga, it’s the reverse of this song
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| Now put your lighters in the air |