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Verse 1: Treach, (Vin Rock)
Oh finally, finally (here we are) And for good, are the three, follow me (It ain't far Even though if it was, you could make it to the start The enemies, do you know who they are? (There they are) A devil with the dorags be walkin, now I had it up to there Oh yeah, that's the last straw (The Nature's back for......) (*Better than disco*) (R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-ound*) (Ugh, ugh, ugh) Pin the tail on the junkie, find a false flavor It's a new day to play with a neighbour Freeze the MC's that wanna see thee By now Naugh-ty By Nature by me They want me to come and come up faster, that could be arranged Dump the last of the matinee, cos they couldn't stand the damn rain The pain's the same, the game remains mine I got more hooks than a fish line Bite the head off a snake Chew it from the first to last break and shoot em in the face Make way, (move), who are you to test me? (Huh, huh, huh......) I seen your last porno flick, it ain't impress me Wassup? Cuddle sport, here's a thought (The only records that they got, are the records their crew bought) Damn real B rock, get fienin, spunky Pin the tail on the donkey
(*Bring that beat back*) Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go
Verse 2: Treach, (Vin Rock)
I do more poppin than a blockhead, wreck the waxheads I'm fed, (Go ahead, you retired tackhead) Back to the fact of the track witta new thought You couldn't smoke butts witta match and a Newport Here we go, we go, we go again, witta flow we know, we know it's in (Def play like Poppa Simpson) KayGee's on the slice, can he co-clean? Doin more scratchin than a funk and a dope fiend Cold knockin blocks off, get your props off But don't cop off, cop out, and I'll cuts off Another renegade of rap will stop that I'm more feared than a Sugar Hill contract I'm known for Lettin The Hos Go, my demo's all flow when cursin was a no-no, you dodo Give it up cos I'm hot witta warm hate I won't stop, pop, til that head is screwed on straight I take shorts, and no sorts, so take that clone The only thing I take is the 8 to the path home And I take you all the way to the north stop Your style is more foul than a pork chop I rock the hip-hop, non-stop tick-tock around the big clock, witta spot, tick-tock Pin the tail on the jackass, it don't mean jack (chill.....) to a brother from down the hill Back track with a rap that remains funky (Hmmm, and it's smooth) Back in the day, y'all, I played with playdough The dough is real now, and dildo's feel how a starvin hungry MC gets when MC filet mignon is the fixin' I'm starvin up, it's time ta, call them up, yup Get em and cut em up, stuff em and cook the duck Tough luck, tell em to shut up and jet And feel the threat of a real life roughneck Pin the tail on the donkey
(*Can I get a witness?*)
Verse 3: Treach, (Vin Rock)
(Check check, where you, where you at, at??) That another best will need a hard vest for this head check) (What? There's another, Treach?) That's what I heard, yep Three steps from a pit, boom, in his chest I never knew a nigga really wanted to die Instead he bit, instead of lookin me eye-to-eye, then I knew he was truly thru, dumb plus the one To meet the mighty one, call a bad one I rhyme about what I want to, microphone 1-2 You're doin like *?Lasuran?* then a bomb do T-H-E MC O-F R-A-P T-O L-double O-K A-T, I-N T-H-E N-I-N-E-T-I-E, apostrophe S see And I might stop to step to a sexy fancy, prancy and dancy No cosmo stomp, here's the true form Style's so fat, it gets fitted with a shoe horn Here's a clearer mirror, dear ya lookin in nearer, cos I don't fear ya Some get too souped to the point where it's still too thick but still lick thru and thru Always want