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Nine Thou (Grant Mohrman 'Superstars' remix) Lyrics

Aiyyo, first things first,
It's time to shake ground, in the eighth round,
Box battle and break down,
For the beak in the rhyme tone,
Jump in the cyclone,
S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes yes I know,
Give the rap phene vaccine,
Packed red beam,
Put 'em up (what the f***),
You plucked a bad seed,
Off the wall, spittin' the guerilla tag team,
What's up now, duck down, stuff that can't breathe.

Yo, you know the routine, the demon effect,
Please, don't step, you wanna be one of my pet peeves,
The more beef the better; sound gay,
But you all wanna sleep together, ok,
In the club we gon' sneak berrettas,
Why not? We got so much street credit, the f*****' police let us,
Now that's bullshit, cause we don't pack heat,
So come and get your head crackin' up at me.

Kick it- movin' it's on now,
Making it punk loud,
Shaking the buck wild,
Rapin' the punk style,
Fakin' the funk pal,
Dunk watch the punk,
What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down,
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?

Hold it down, never give in,
Styles ever get limbs,
Or whether you want it to end,
Dirty seringe, I murder 'em again,
97 serving them sins,
Uh 30 your friends get knocked out, turbulent wind,
Hopped out, what you want, big verb in the gin,
I'm a fish; you can tell by the flippers or fins,
C'mon.
Yo, I got a rock style,
Pivot the offspring, and joke with 'em
With a distorted gist off string,
Who am i? Rushin' what leg? who and Tak?
Pushin' your bed hotter than Quebec in July,
Area 51, stereo, rive gun live,
Here we go, s*****drop some,
For the kids in the hall with the new block tape,
Blast from both angles like boom dock saint,
So get up get up and let the sound hit ya,
Snap it's already ya style picture.

Kick it- movin' it's on now,
Making it punk loud,
Shaking the buck wild,
Rapin' the punk style,
Fakin' the funk pal,
Dunk watch the punk,
What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down,
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Who the hell wear splittin' the belly up on a selfish,
Shinnin' in your style playin' the fell blitz,
Drillin' your brain, like rap and video games,
Feel the seringe for the styles that stickin' in your brain.

Yo, what kind of s*** is he on?
Really is styles, really be on,
C'mon punk f*** off; You really gotta be gone,
Ripped out of your brain,
p***** covered in s*** to diss this s*****game,
Son of a b****,
I'ma start killin' for kicks,
There ain't an air force 1 inn the globe I can't fig, get it?
I'm sick with it, when I spit the venom,
And it drip's up in 'em,
And it get's the women in a,
Quick dilemma; We can settle it now,
And I don't know who did it, but they said it was styles.

Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?

Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out).
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
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