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reign.. in the subway - mf doom lyrics

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no friendly warfare, this ain’t wrestlin’
there’s nothin’ staged over here, you’re trippin’ mescaline
drinkin’, coulda got smacked for what he thinkin’
coulda said the word, then whack! abe lincoln
and still spend stacks off crack, stay crinklin’
this game’s built to get got while blinkin’
rappers do big up jail like a recruiter
let ’em tend ta hit a boy, said he was a shooter
told him “man up, or keep it pushin’ like a scooter”
then said nuttin’ and didn’t p-ss the buddha
lo and behold, police shows up
spit his sh-tty sixteen and got his self froze up, up
his story had a moral, it’s buried in the soil
vil put it in her back like the epidural
kids: eat, sleep, stay away from creeps
spit it from the heart, this game’s for keeps
so peep
yeah, saga of a true b-boy
beware any likenesses or imagery is a decoy
sho nuff, yo fluff, force like bruce leroy
bring trouble up and get double cut— keloid
bubble up, run ’em up, destroy
and anything else you see— void
rightful ownership
got a bone to pick with the phoniest colonialist
who own a ship
the loneliest known to rip
known to sip pine and ripple
find yourself in a bind and pickle
don’t bite the hand that feeds you, bite the nipple
in this land of black and brown, ain’t no backin’ down
as foul as that sound, it’s hard to find a cap and gown
but it’s always like a mac around
b-r-r-r-r-at!! man down
metal is empowered, devil is a coward
it all smells of high h-ll like no one ever showered
scrub behind ya ears, shed the final tears
remember what the world was like in the final years
just a speck of dirt in the universe, snap fingers
just like that— -ssume the worst
back in business, guzzle beers, track and fitness
laps get faster, could’ve missed christmas
what is this?

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