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    (ft. Styles Of Beyond)

    Yeah, like that Y'all
    Uh huh, whoo, like that
    Fort Minor, S.O.B.
    Yeah, like this, listen

    Attention please, I only need a second
    To make a mental impression directly on any record so
    Give me space to move, room to prove I'm stupid with the P's and Q's
    Ladies and gentlemen I'm sending you bending
    Pretending the pen is a needle, I'm injecting the venom
    And I'll be damned if I let another man get to me
    I'll bruise you with a shoe to the family jewelry
    I'm back with fury, attack quickly
    Sick with a BIC pen, all up in your shit man
    You never knew the flow was sick as this
    Bitch, listen when I'm letting you know
    Got a grip on these tracks that you wish you got
    Got a clique full of assholes, I kid you not
    So when that mixtape's done and that album drops
    Ryu and Tak and me got it loaded and locked, believe it

    You still breathing? I'm cocking and squeezing
    Tucked still? Nope, I don't give a fuck who sees it
    Broad days sitting sideways, stuffed in a small cave
    For three fucking weeks 'til you reek like dog waste
    Ugh, really, I put a punk in his place
    Let's see if he freestyles with a pump in his face
    Got something to say? Please, better keep it a secret
    The streets got hideous ways of handling beef, bitch
    So eat shit, hate it or love it, the underdogs on top
    Getting faded telling people to suck it
    Bucking 'em down for real while you fucking around
    I'm stuck in the house for months tryin to sharpen my skills
    So how does it feel? You lames want to claim my throne
    You got a better chance getting Danny Hayes on the phone
    Good luck, I flame suckers 'til they're black and crispy
    Sneaking heat up in the club like a flask of whisky

    Yeah, I'm here to crack the roof in
    You got a nice watch but your raps are useless
    You better cut the crap 'fore i snap some nooses
    And leave you all snoozing' on some afternoon shit
    I hit the streets with a cake and batter for fun
    Just to spit bleach in his face
    It's lunchtime punk, open the face
    Hit you with a punchline 'til you choke on your teeth
    Catch me at the show rockin' in that tipsy mode
    Like Angels and Demons unlocking DaVinci's Code
    One drop in the cannister, people split the globe
    Blowing every planet to shit once I hit the road
    You in the tight bitch, cut you with apathy
    I'm on the night shift see I hustle like cassidy
    So kick that shit sound and let the west coast see
    One of the illest names, Ribkat from S.O.B.

    [Green Lantern:]
    That's right, Fort Minor
    We Major, Mike Shinoda, S.O.B.
    Heavy Guard, Machine Shop, Linkin Park
    You know, man, this is an...

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