| The Great Migration… grab on, it’s free, nigga
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| Pick it up from your local street corner, nigga
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| By the fucking liquor store
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| Yeah… check me, yo. |
| check mate
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| In the jungles, streets hard, flee God, doubt God
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| Why God? |
| Moms heard me scream, like I’ve been scorned
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| The beef so supreme, Lord, vatos got hoes
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| Playing for my house doughs, another dose of some vicadine
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| Slicing in, jutting in, like sudden cutting wind
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| And we got severe strokes, sword tip, pin popes, send folks
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| To hell, when the doors close, it’s hard here, my dear
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| Kiss your chin, missed again, this is Michigan
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| AKA Babylon Ceasar Sin, it’s me again
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| Grabbing at your back door like a raptor, you need me, you actors
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| Revelations, came in, deteurate men and women
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| MC’s… go home and smoke them leaves
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| Slice and dice, pure rate, my forte is swordplay
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| Chop-off-ya-limbs day, sway off strings of ligaments
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| This nigga bends, Kevlaar lives, and rock, black Timbs
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| Only wins, between punching, dungeon walls, and basements
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| Relentless, Killa Bee, sting like flying jellyfish
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| A king walks around, with a pen and a severed wrist
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| Oh… I want you to know
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| My life is yours to share
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| Just assured, as the skies are blue
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| I said.
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| Yo, in the streets, jungles deep, run from man, haunted lands
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| Skeletons, they haunting man, you argue fam, we flaunting hands
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| It might just, let the pipes bust, in a birth canal, I creep from wells
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| With secret spells, that teach and tell, my speech’ll kill, as deep as hills
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| As deep as steel, we dwell on scarred blocks, where they scar cops
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| They don’t even come, for evening suns, I’m grieving, and be needing guns
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| Cause stocks and bonds are far beyond, the poverty lines, we stand for years
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| Hooded life, crimson rain, singing in the veil of tears
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| Trail of beers and vodka, I’m on a, different planet
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| I crack skulls like granite, that was blast out of cannon
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| From standing on porches, to handing off roach clips
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| I’m so swift, I broke ribs, and came back like Joe Gibbs
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| Blow kids out boxes, box cutters and Glock clips
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| The loudest, obnoxious, shots, just woke me
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| From my worst, nightmare, we thirst for light years
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| Cause dark days and brain stays, over me, like no one seem
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| Can’t control the scenes, I’m just an actor in the scripts of life
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| My pen poison is quick to strike, cause skin moistness, my kryptonite
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| I skipped a hype, and took the elevator, toward heaven’s light |