| Yeah, yeah, uh, 9−7 y’all
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| Yeah, uh, Sunz Of Man y’all
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| Yeah, uh, New York to California y’all (Valley Of Kings)
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| Yeah, huh, yeah (Valley Of Kings)
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| Yeah, uh, yo
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| To make the worse get better
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| We gotta come together
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| As one mind that’s ready for whatever
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| Singin our holy anthem
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| Lampin with all my handsome grandsons
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| Strong as Sampson, inside my gold mansion
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| Built upon a hill, located over Israel
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| The city of emeralds, the land of many treasures
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| May our flag stand forever, band together
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| By the ancestors, until they transgress ya
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| Put his hand upon the letter
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| We used to conquer everywhere we wandered
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| Reign with honor, until we stepped upon the
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| Fertile soil, royal, shinin like alumuninum foil
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| Ancient kings from the Bysatine, blowin steam
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| From our nostrils, hostile, listen to the gospel
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| To alternate the mind state
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| Spillin wine from the blood of grapes
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| Over my iron breastplate, got my opponent in checkmate
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| Egyptians is my musicians, Christians is my beauticians
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| The sound of the trumpet gives me comfort
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| Peasants bring my presents, for a blessing
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| A restin under the moon crescant
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| Haven’t search the whole earth
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| The outskirts of the universe
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| KP, your majesty, the magnificent, heaven sent
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| God’s gift, ever so swift
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| Another round of applause and encore as the lions roar
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| The chief war lord
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| In these dark days of Vietnam
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| Death is a pawn, that’s word is bond
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| Sound the alarm, we surround calm
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| Barin arms, spark a megatron
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| Rockin charms, true and livin Islam
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| Supreme’s wisdom becomes a realistic sitcom
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| On the grounds of Brooklyn
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| Central Booking through good Crooklyn
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| So, until then I make ends meet, war the beast
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| In the streets of heat, move industry, formation concrete
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| Medina soldier, mathematical, alphabetical
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| Quote an intelligent sire, contain the element of fire
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| Mental igniter, who said to school ya 'bout the liar
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| As it was bitin, writin in the books over Ovadiah
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| I shower tiger soul with papaya
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| Original soul writer, the golden fighter
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| Swift, clever like the tiger
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| So, on the contrary, you can get bloody like mary
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| Head flown like the tooth fairy, crushed like some berries
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| Birds of a feather fly together
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| The wise and the clever last forever
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| Never say never
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| From the ghetto, not the suburbs
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| First ye observe me, come serve me
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| All high under my Godfather’s derby
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| Style that be Earthly, you heard of me
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| Satan can’t curse me, I perfer my by bein dirty
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| Stayin sterdy, watch the birdy, make you beg for some mercy
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| A motionless attempt to want to hurt me
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| Out for big cops that wanna search me
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| But their justice don’t deserve me
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| This world don’t concern me
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| Children of the prophets in the projects gotta hustle for a profit
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| Before we hit Apocalypse, thieves dig your pockets
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| Begin to notice they’re Earth’s hostages
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| The wicked rule, cash rules
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| Stash jewels in your head that be brain food
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| Show and prove, go back to black schools
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| I smack fools, tryin to give me back the shackles
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| Don’t make me clap you
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| My niggas carry Glocks, gettin sexed up in homemade mariotts
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| Sit back and we plot a lot
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| Move with the ninja type and the Nazis like society
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| The wisely, FBI’s can’t even keep an eye on me
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| Blessed be the meak…
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| Blessed be the meak in the valley of the kings
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| Yo, I be that maker, owner, cream, when I’m plannin
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| Was schooled by my man, but my name ain’t branded
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| Branded as the world turns, from the clause, FA mob, what
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| Shhh from the start, best to roll from your heart
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| Puttin 'nam on the map, FA rock full of trap, diamonds and emeralds
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| And nothin but tools, for the knowledge of a fool
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| Is the wisdom of the dead, drownin in the pools
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| I’ve been schooled, we trade gold, drinkin royal wine
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| While me in my mind, some roots
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| They’re in the Valleys of Kings, truth
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| In shinin armor, both kings killin rap in your drama
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| Since one the rhymer, made kids bring the drama
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| FA rock, your last stop, bringin it off the curb
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| The last serb on the other side of 1−23rd
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| Anti-up the chump, you’re bitchin, tough
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| It be the kings callin bluffs
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| To make the worst get better
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| We got four kings who love it wetter
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| Bring on your bloodbath, we’ll let ya
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| And it’ll be a 60 Sec. |
| pleasure
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| Supreme Kourt, yeah |