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Credits: Chris, Wes, Fred, & Ibo |
Lyrics
The scene is weak, I turn the other cheek
With a punch to the face and two lumps in my tea
Just like Gandhi
I'll take every last bit, and right when it's too loud I'll turn it up a bit
Because the words that I spit are not the leat bit prothetic.
My style is unused. Not exhausted. Not pathetic.
So if you decide to up this pass (pass this up) baby and I'll kick your ass.
You know, baby baby, it won't be pretty
Because baby baby, it's scumbag city
And baby baby, you don't want to work these streets
Because baby baby, I won't be beat.
Radical individuals polluting our solution to this anti-music
This anti-music revolution.
I had a dream, baby, where music-sweet-music rang supreme
and maybe someday I'll see it, but not too soon
Yeah, because I just can't keep on guessing and checking
and guessing and checking
I'm off the record now baby
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