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« on: October 24, 2008, 07:59:13 AM »
this wat it be...
21 punches..
my flow NASA, i draw a crowd wen i launch/
they gimme a hell'o'va send off lyk gettin straight red card/
niggaz linez aint straight, i guess they be spittin em gay bars/
ya boi lay bars(labours), you'd swear dat i majored in H.R/
you cant mess with the best, yal best'a stay put/
couldnt picture niggaz readin even if yal signed up for facebook/
ya boi stay fresher than water without the H2/
and i only work during the day, so fvck a debut/
yal can throw em double d's wen i bust, i stay abreast dude/
da game's endangered, guess ya boi came to the rescue/
the x kid, ya favourit boi still thuggin/
they claim i'm cock-eyed, well i guess i saw dat cumin/
this joint dont need airtym to keep da streets buzzin'/
instrumental in bringin heat, lyk i was BEATOVEN/
watch me cut theses rappers in their tracks lyk i was beat jugglin'/
still gunnin', you can check my arsenal i aint frontin/
wheneva i'm on a beat, shit evolves to a real drubbin.../
now lets add it up, thats about 13 punches/
if you lost count, chances are you wont amount to nothin/
lol...thats another one to the bakers dozen/
they claim i got a shit flow, in dat case i'ma keep royal flushin/
wen only 50 cards come out, aint no jokin/
yal already know i'm about guns and roses/
and i always make the cut, my cigarrete stay smokin/
even on weak days my wordplay stay potent/
i'm droppin dat fatness so my readers stay bloated/
talk about a punch, i seen niggaz get drunk off soda's/
cant judge me after 21 punches, u aint sober!
holla at me!
the kid bone-x