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Thug Poet
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1
[Kobe]
2
Uh
3
Uh huh
4
You know what this is
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I'ma let 'em run around one more time
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I drop sumpin' on y'all
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It's like... it's like
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What's it like?
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My microphones and glock nines
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Black? I'm dipped in that
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The beats, my mash, jam you for the platinum you have
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Run it, the illest, watch me become it
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I'm here, and took it bowling, like straight to the wig
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Speak truth like kids, tell you what you don't know
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Kobe? Yeah, he's real with the flow
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Kick in the do' wavin' the flow-flow
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All you heard was stop, can't take the hits no more
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Ha, didn't know I had your block on SWAT?
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I'm CIA, y'all nuttin' but beat cops
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I rock like my ma's mean, name is cocaine
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Place you on my A-fiend list and pay you 'cane
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Think you can handle? Not get stripped when you rock?
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Think again, you find you lost your mind and judgement
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My confidence, springs from watching y'all fall
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Aw, forced to hustle, rap in charge
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I'ma hop in your brain, tell you whatchu thinkin'
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Yes, I am speakin', but I ain't writin'
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So cold, I put the ice in nicest
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You too broke to pay attention
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My style is priceless
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[Kobe] [Nas]
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If you say murder that means I'm a Thug Poet
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If I say my mind kills that means I'm a Thug Poet
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If I say that I'm a flock that means I'm a Thug Poet
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And when I lay it down, it makes me a Thug Poet
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[Broady Boy]
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Thank the dudes for the gangs and tanks of booze
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Shanks and twos, it's the gangstas, Langston Hughes
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My poems' about broken homes and Jesus peaces
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Dope is the Popes in Rome
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Poetical field, thug overtone, it's like what, yo?
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Bring it home, we both go gone
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Pre-cord thought flow in the sober zone
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My life style, chromosomes frost, hope to clone
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The crack lust, black dust, and the gat bust
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The claps, the lackluster, memoirs of the black hustler
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Condos, Beemers, bomb hoes, coke bags, toe tags, John Does
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Fiends skits them into the plane of day, as plain as day
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It's hard to reach, to smell God anyway
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Money, think backdrop payin' gray?
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Man, rubber-gripped on that rainy day
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Peep the way I came to play
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One aim at the game, reign and stay
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Every stain is straight from objective, insane
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'Ey just don't know, I'm two ticks from blowing a hole through music
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But I'm more than pimp-whoring him for the street wise
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You met the ren
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Cuz I open 'neath in the weed, hydrogen
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Jam my eyes to skin, guide some of our wisest men
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Until the skies of sin
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I pray for the day we see you rise again
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Uh
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[Nas] [Broady]
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Thug Poet Street analyst is this, the
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Thug Poet Hustlers bang out to
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Thug Poet Flows for your block, Hip-Hop
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Thug Poet
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Thug Poet
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[50 Cent]
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Aiyyo, everybody know 50 ain't know how to act
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I run up on cats with gats and aluminum bats
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Y'all got fat while we starved, it's my turn
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Shit, I done felt how a slug burned, I still won't learn
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Niggas in the 'hood a-tell ya "50 crazy"
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I had your moms screamin' "They done shot my baby"
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Son, I yap your shine, I clap the nine, I slap you
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I'm that one of them niggas you wanna fuck with
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I spit the shit that make ya keep listenin'
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Keep my wrists glistenin'
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I left niggas alone and they still think I'm dissin' 'em
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I'm on some new shit, S-Type baby blue shit
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Niggas talk behind my back but don't do shit
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I ain't looking for love, duke, I'm looking for respect
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I leave you with options, like die or hit the deck
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I'm a thug poet, you know what I came for, the dough
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Clap-clap, y'all niggas get the fuck on the floor, floor
87
[Nas] (Echoes to fade)
88
Thug Poet
50 Cent - "Still Think Im Nothing" Feat ...
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