You can come test, realise it's no contest, son.
I'm the gun who won that old Wild West.
Quick on the draw with my hands on the floor,
Lovin' all those goddamn funkey rhymes galore,
Check it, 'cos I think not when it's hip hop like proper
rhymes be the proof when I'm drinkin' ninety proof vodka.
No OJ, no. No straw.So anyhow. Work was bad-ass
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