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    Music....Reality....Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference
    But we as entertainers have a responsibility, to these kids... Psyche

    If I, were to die, murdered in cold blood tommorrow, would you feel sorrow, or show love, or would it matter?
    Could never be the lead-off batter if there ain't shit for me to feed off, I'm see-saw battlin'
    but there's way too much at stake for me to be fake, there's too much on my plate, I done came way
    too far in this game, to turn and walk away, and not say what I got to say
    what the fuck you take me for, a joke? You smokin' crack? 'Fore I do that, I'd beg Mariah to take me back
    I'll get up 'fore I get down, gun myself in the ground, 'fore I put some wack shit out
    I'm tryin' to smack this one out the park, five-thousand mark, y'all steady tryin' to drown a shark
    ain't gon' do nothin' but piss me off, lid to the can of whip ass, just twist me off
    see me leap out, pull a piece out, fuck shootin', I'm just tryin' to knock his teeth out
    fuck with me now bitch, let's see you freestyle, talk is cheap, motherfucker, if you really feelin' froggish, leap
    yo Slim, you gon' let him get away with that? He tried to play you, you can't let him skate with that
    man I hate this crap, this ain't rap, this is crazy the way we act, when we confuse hip hop
    with real life when the music stops

    Ain't no getting' rid of Mcveigh, if so you woulda tried, the only way I'm leavin' this bitch is suicide
    I have died clinically, arrived ride back at my enemies' crib with Hennessey, got drunk then I finish him
    I'm every nigga's favorite arch enemy, physically fitted to be the most dangerous nigga with beef
    I spark willingly, with a dillinger in the dark, dilligently, I'm not what you think
    I appear to be fucked up, mentally endangered, I can't stay away from a razor, I just want my face in a paper
    I wish a nigga had a grenade to squeeze tight to awake neighbors for acres
    I'll murder you, I gauge have me turn into a mad man, son of sam bitch, I'm surgical
    I'm allergic to dyin', you think not, you got balls? We can see how large
    when the music stops

    Kon Artis:
    I was happy havin' a deal at first, thought money would make me happy, but it only made my pain worse
    It hurts when you see your friends turn their back on you, dog, and you ain't got nuttin' left but your word and your balls
    and you're stressed from the calls of your new friends, beggin' with their hands out, checkin' for your record when it's sellin'
    when it ain't that's the end, no laughs, no friends, no girls, just the gin you drink, till your car spin
    you think Damn! When you slam into the wall, and you fall out the car and try to crawl with one arm
    I'm bout to lose it all, in a pool of alcohol, if my funeral's tomorrow, wonder would they even call
    when the music stops

    Let's see how many of your men loyal, when I pull up lookin' for you with a pistol, sippin' a can of penzoil
    I'm revved up, who said what, when lead bust your head just explode with red stuff, I'm handcuffed
    tossed in the paddywagon, braggin' about how you shouted, like a coward, bullets devoured you, showered you niggas
    If I was you niggas, I'd run while given a chance, understand, I can enhance the spirit of man
    Death itself, it can hurt me, just the thought of dyin' alone that really irks me
    you ain't worthy to speak thoughts of cheap talk, be smart and stop tryin' to walk how G's walk before we spark
    hug the floor while we playin' tug-of-war with your life, fuck a tour and a mike, I'd rather fuck a whore with a knife
    deliver that shit that coroner's like, you hype, poppin' shit in broad daylight, nigga you're a gonner at night
    when the music stops

    Instigators, turn pits in cages, let loose and bit the neighbors, wrist to razors
    y'all don't want war, y'all want talk, in the dark, my dogs all bark like woof!
    Proof nigga I'ma wolf, get your whole roof, caved in like reindeer hoofs
    stomp the booth, shake, the floor tiles loose, the more y'all breath, shit, the more lose moves
    It's Hill Street, this is hardcore blues, put a gun to rap check in all our dues
    nigga, or make the news, betcha all move, when the uzi pop you better drop
    when the music stop

    Music has changed my life in so many ways, brains confused been fucked since the fifth grade
    Ll told me rock the bells, Nwa said fuck the police, now I'm in jail
    '93 was strictly R&B, fucked haircut, listenin' to Jodeci
    Michael Jackson who gonna tell me I ain't Mike? Ass cheeks painted white, fuckin' Priscilla tonight
    Flyin' down Sunset smokin' crack, transvestite in the front, Eddie Murphy in the back
    Mop had grimy and gritty, Marilyn Manson, I died my hair blue, and grew some titties
    Ludacris told me to throw them bows, now I'm in the hospital with a broken nose and a fractured elbow
    voices in my head I'm goin' in shock, I'm reachin' for the glock, but the music stops...

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