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    [Guru]
    Ah so now ya got me pissed off, blast off lift off
    Time for me to twist off a vocal fist off
    into your domepiece, Homepeace, I heard your chick wants to bone me
    I get, wild like rugby, respected like Bugsy
    Don't even ask me, cause I'm livin lovely
    Born to succeed, foes bleed, true indeed
    The oral combat will romp that, your one of my seeds
    when I first, busted on the scene
    Nigga, you knew I had more than a gangsta lean
    I mean my lean is gangsta though so check it
    I'll stick an MC for his spot and sign in blood on his wack record
    Boo-ya-ka, to your face as I ruin ya
    Clown ya, dumbfound ya, while I'm screwin the
    fuck out cha girl as she steps into my world
    I'm not the tallest, but that ass I'll polish
    And if the hooker runs her mouth she gets cut off
    But then you'll sweat her, cause like my leather you're butter soft
    Your style stinks kid, ya garbage
    And if you keep talkin shit, I'ma make ya pay homage
    Cause the G to the U to the R-U, came too far to
    let you slide through, rhymes will scar you
    And who the fuck are you anyway?
    I catch more wreck in a minute than if you rhyme for ten days
    Throw the cash in the pot
    You betta dash nigga, cause I'm blowin up the spot

    "I'm bout to blow the fuck up"
    * Premier scratches *

    [Guru]
    No ex-capin the explosion, those who are dozin, I close in
    Set the thermostat at sub-zero, they're frozen
    Extreme temperatures from my mic, stuns amateurs
    Unable to conquer the Gang, I ain't mad at cha
    Peace to Jeru, the Big Shug and the Group Home
    Keepin it real, no playin niggaz or chrome
    I'm way past the kid shit, brothers already did shit
    You want some props? Yo dog, here's a biscuit
    I'm a smooth nigga and my groove's bigga, move nigga
    And we don't care who's wit cha, got the picture?
    And you don't wanna hear the burners go pop
    Gang Starr motherfucker, what, blowin up the spot

    "I'm bout to blow the fuck up"
    * Premier scratches *

    [Guru]
    I go from one format then switch to the next
    Reflex sets the pitch vocals rip through projects
    Crazy shouts are heard all around
    Cause the GangStarr sound carries more weight per pound
    I got some brand new Timbs, so emcees sing new hymns
    You betta repent, come correct, represent
    or get stomped, smacked and slapped, cap peeled back
    I got you open, and now you cling to my sac
    Get off, hands off, stay off, you're way off
    You rookie motherfuckers it's the finals not the playoffs
    I'll break you up into particles, to small pieces
    Because your brain is miniscule
    You little fool, come learn the tools of the trade
    I made the rules so go to school and get played
    Just when you're thinkin that your jam is hot

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