| Niggas gotta know we’ve puttin it down
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| This shit is certified right here (whoo yes, yes)
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| No games with this right here
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| Straight to the di-dome, like this (uhh, uhh)
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| This right here, has been cer-ti-fied
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| For years. |
| ahhhahhh-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
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| He’s got soul up in his blueprint, and he’s ready to vocalize
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| So we, passin the mic your way, come on testify.
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| Prepare each element with raw street intelligence
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| Dig the soul this is, complete elegance
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| Heartbeat delegates when I spit each melon’s hit
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| Like to build ill like, repeat felons get
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| Plus I’m jazzy and like to dress to impress
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| It’s the baldhead buddha, with the mic caress
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| And I might suggest, that you broaden your mind
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| You spend a lot of your time dancin to fraudulent rhymes
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| Like a breath of fresh air we gonna, change the pace
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| Not a mental slave, so save the angry face
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| It’s the return of the mellow voiced maestro, and my flow
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| Eliminates the comp like Geico
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| Insurance — just for your body’s endurance
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| You get more for your money, or your partyin purest
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| So don’t start to get nervous now that we up in the spot
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| We’ve been certified for years, you gonna love it a lot
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| Who, me? |
| That nigga Jay, Dee (Jay Dee)
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| Some plod to beats that I, flow to
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| Run men through, with Gu-ru (Guru)
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| As for me, I be the nigga that’s tight
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| You got to seeeeeeee
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| In order for you, to believeeeeeee
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| Singin these words, with easeeeee
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| Talkin bout, boom — a-shaka-laka
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| -a-laka-laka-BOOM!
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| Roll the weed and lose the seeds asshole
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| You can breathe three-hundred-and-sixty degrees
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| Of HEAT, sing with the soul
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| Straight from the streets, of Illadelph
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| Move your feet — ahh-HAH, pimp shit
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| (It's that pimp shit) Big whips with full clips
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| Got mad chicks, on my dick
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| Ridin by, so say it loud, in your face!
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| Soulful
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| Tinted window whips, lots of chicks lots of chips
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| Anything ain’t right then the brother’s gotta flip
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| Or skinnydip, after a sip of Cognac rap
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| Any wack wimp with whiskers, I bomb that cat
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| Alarm that cat, that when we slide through abide to
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| The rules that’s been laid down by (?) true like bibles
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| I’m liable, to come through, seven deep with Wizzies
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| And ditch 'em while other ladies whisper, who is he?
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| Then later leave with eight new ones, me an airtight Willie
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| Bout to smack you silly with two guns
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| So hereby I certify don’t care if you feel hurt if I
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| Testify, against your false words or lies
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| Word to God this is my job I’m workin hard every minute
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| Movin up in the rat race, city council to senate
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| So what you don’t get it? |
| You can’t front no more
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| Been certified for years, can’t speak to chumps no more
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| This one right here
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| Has been certified, for years
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| That’s right
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| Soul up in his blueprint, ready to vocalize
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| Pass the mic this way, testify
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| Hmm, like they say it doesn’t hurt to try
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| This here, is bonafied baby, certified baby
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| Jazzmatazz 3rd edition
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| Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal
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| No rehearsal, certified with virtue
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| Respect the circle
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| It’s me and the B-I-L-A-L
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| YouknowhatI’msayin? |
| Jay Dee from Pay Jay
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| Airtight Willie heh, from Boston to New Yiddy
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| All the way to Philly
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| Now in the D sittin pretty
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| Certified |