Keith Murray feat. 50 Grand and Kel-Vicious love l o d

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Yo, I seen them motherfuckers out in the street
Them pussy asses
(Man fuck them niggas anyway man, fuck them)
Hood rats, and them fat rolly polly punks
Yo kel (What up?) Yo answer this question
Why are we the nicest in this fuckin' profession?
Yo, it's um, simple philosophy
Doe ray me fa so love L.O.D. (yeah yeah)
Aye yo 50 (What's up?)
Answer this question (What's that?)
Why are you the best in your profession?
Now when i'm creepin' on a bitchass M.C.
Doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.
Keith murray (Yo, what's up 50?)
Answer the question? (What's that?)
Why you be the sickest in profession?
I been all around the world hearin' wack m.c.'s
It's doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.
(Aye yo) Ask yourself the very same question
Why are we the wickedest in this profession?
I'm breakin' backs with Def Squad constantly
Doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.
Any nigga want to step, get busy
Doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.
I be the bushwa freakah, coming through yah your speakah
My jams be getting stronger
While your shit be gettin' weaker
Now Kel be playin' kids just like the NY Knicks
Taking it to your ass with these rhymes & shit
Cause kids contradict themselves when they be rhymin'
Sounding like shit, off beat with no timing
Now as soon as I touch the paper, see ya later
I shut your lights off, like a blackout
So hit the circuit breaker
I'm the worst trouble you ever had
Vocab like knife stabs
Comin' wild, killin' in a paragraph
Holding niggas ransom, it runs in my blood
Maybe my grandson, might be wild like Charles Manson
I be the gimmie, the got ya
Been blastin' niggas way before the remix, I Shot Ya
The proper hip hopper, fading 'em in the palladium
And bustin' each and every nigga bubble in the tunnel
After the sunshine, comes the rain
Hold up, wait a minute, let me back up and just explain
I been all around the world
What? Battle me?
Take this autograph home, and give it to your family
All I hear is booty stinkin' ass wack M.C.'s
Stricly doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.
Nigga, your life means nothing to me, challenge L.O.D.
The average nigga style sucks like a hickey
50 g's the M.C. brain buster, mic crusher
Dirty money quicker picker uppa, crew duster
Now that l.o.d.'s up in this motherfucker
Leave a known rapper with broken english
Like smooth da hustler
Samething make a nigga laugh, make his ass cry
He rolled a seven
I bet it all, he turned around, rolled snake eyes
My thinking cap is bigger than fuckin' Sade's
Stay all terrain, rainin' on all parades
The street is my bed, and the corner is my pillow
I'll kill your fuckin' ass and for your crew I'll do ditto
I'll leave a nigga dead and stinkin' take his soul
Cha-chic-Boom, Cha-Boom
Fill him up with holes
Natural born killer, iller than the rest
(Where you at?) East coast to West
I keep it real kid, I freak the flow until it's naked
Niggas get panicked and frantic and can't take it
I been all around the world
What? Battle me?
Take this autograph home, and give it to your family
Def Squad is the family you don't want to see
Stricly doe, ray, me, fa, so, love l.o.d.
Count Vicioius (What up?)
Answer this question
Why are you so fuckin' nice in this profession?
(Track fades out)

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