paroles de chanson Clones - The Roots , Dice Raw
Yeah,
to
all
the
Jim
Carey
ass
large
co-op
Know
what
I'm
sayin'?
Large
co-op,
what
the
fuck?
To
the
clones,
we
bless
the
domes
Blow
the
vial,
you
know
my
style,
large
co-op
Freestyle
all
the
way
son
Dice
First
of
all
let's
talk
about
these
ill
capers
And
fly
ass
frontin'
bitches
that
now
caught
vapors
Niggaz
run
up
on
you
with
guns,
snatchin'
papers
Outlined
body
chalk,
is
how
they
would
scrape
ya
From
off
the
pavement,
I
hate
gettin'
locked
up
'Cause
that
upstate
bus
reminds
me
of
the
slave
ships
But
then
the
Bible
never
saved
shit
I
guess
that's
why
every
Juvenile
is
in
the
same
predicament
You
wanna
slang
crack,
or
hold
tecs,
and
do
the
concept
You
can't
make
loot,
when
your
moms
is
smokin'
up
the
product
I
try
to
tell
ya,
don't
let
these
streets
fuckin'
fail
ya
The
way
niggaz
be
gettin'
clapped,
shit'll
fuckin'
scare
ya
But
in
the
dark,
we
ran
wild,
so
we
killin'
em
Niggaz
scared,
can't
stand
still,
like
fuckin'
helium
Fake
niggaz,
they
don't
go
platinum
they
go
aluminum
Got
'em
cloned
the
fuck
up
son,
that's
why
we
losin'
'em
I'm
lookin'
at
this
niggaz
longevity,
to
make
a
big
play
But
then
it
might
be
a
mistake
'Cuz
if
I
get
sent
to
D
C,
I'm
sendin'
dice
to
DE
With
three
P's,
so
when
I
get
out,
he
can
see
me
For
real,'cuz
the
streets
is
filled
with
snakes
and
rats
The
snake
will
be
that
bitch
and
that
rat
will
be
that
cool
cat
With
swollen
pockets
we
gonna
take
you
back
home
Master
Allah
rule
Savior,
never
clone
Yo,
I
use
the
mic
to
slap
you
in
the
face
and
erase
your
taste
Disgrace
your
date,
put
your
title
to
waste
Dominant
lyrical
grace,
from
a
place
called
wild
Illadelph
Isle
Pensy,
that's
the
residency
Consist
in
currency,
my
pockets
never
empty
Some
cats,
believe
they
M
C,
but
we
know
they
all
fraud
Do
a
show
in
Philly
niggaz
wouldn't
applaud
Nobody
know
your
record
nor
who
you
openin'
for
Can
tell
your
squad's
artificial
while
approachin'
the
door
So
you
should
prepare,
for
lyrical
terror
that's
pure
Step
up
to
the
resevoir,
of
the
soul
proprietor
style
Messiah
or,
the
higher
law
down
with
dice
raw
The
matador,
Shorty
Conniseur
Stompin'
whatever
you
build
to
the
floor
Similar
to
that
of
a
dinosaur,
I
told
you
I'm
the
rap
Predator
You
insist
to
imitate,
what
for?
Superstar
niggaz
is
ten
percent
real,
ninety
percent
invented
For
a
fuckin'
record
deal
Comin'
with
somethin'
veterans
can't
feel
I
hit
you
like
a
steel
anvil
Because
you
grafted
off
the
next
man's
skill
But
still
I
remain
mellow,
seein'
the
theatrics
of
Othello
Run
over
tactics
of
Robin
Ello
C
L
O
N
E
S
fess
The
phoniest
cats
is
felonious
word
Dice
raw
the
Juvenile
lyricist
corner
store
terrorist
Block
trooper,
conniseur
of
fine
cannabis
Focus
never
weak,
blow
up
the
spot
like
Plastique
Leave
a
nigga
shook,
to
the
point,
he
won't
speak
Never
half-assed,
always
live
and
direct
On
bitches
try
to
punk
smell,
the
panty
and
raw
sex
Mad
lights
I
had
to
black
out,
when
fake
niggaz
act
out
Or
step
out
of
place,
they
get
slapped
in
they
face
All
y'all
niggaz
is
fake,
tryin'
to
emulate
my
style
What
grown
man?
In
this
game,
to
me
you're
a
child
I
trained
wack
M
C's,
in
camps
like
ex-marines
Why
the
fuck
you
think
you
went
home
and
had
bad
dreams
Of
horrifying
things,
that
your
ass
never
seen
before?
You
traveled
to
the
realm
of
dice
raw
Where
clones
get
they
dome
blown
with
chrome
microphones
It's
not
your
fault
black,
just
the
fact
you
wasn't
shown
You'll
come
through
this
like
a
smurf
I
got
you
rollin'
stop
off
the
earth
Represent
while
I
been
like
this
since
birth
And
I
won't
be
the
last
but
I
definitely
was
the
first
Dice
raw
big
car
Logan's
Isle,
soldier
Don't
come
across
that
line
or
pay
a
cost
Knuckle
games
and
hammer
cocked
ain't
nothing
sweet
or
soft
Win,
lose
or
draw,
to
the
jaw
take
one
Derange
lyrical
launcher,
or
station
No
conversation
is
needed,
my
task
completed
Read
a
nigga
up
and
down
in
the
cut
where
I'm
seated
Snatch
you
from
your
cloud
of
cannabis,
you
ignoramuses
You
laid
on
your
lap,
when
I
attack
your
glamorous
Lifestyle,
I
banged
your
head
up
with
the
white
fowl
My
character,
a
product
of
this
two
one
fifth
trife
style
I
breeze
through
areas
niggaz
would
fear
to
walk
in
Balance
the
talkin',
that
galactic
style
as
of
a
falcon
Your
Star
Trek
ass
will
wrinkle
Spill
these
words
and
form
into
a
sprinkle
Cap
you're
brought
up
and
the
name
of
twinkle
My
insight
will
crack
the
windpipe
of
y'all
niggaz
Whether
small,
middle-sized,
or
tall
niggaz
Just
tie
your
name
next
when
I
start
to
X
Givin'
out
flex
pains
of
death,
so
fuck
a
raincheck
The
insane
vet,
whether
you
ganked
the
brain
wet
You
proceed
to
lame
check,
the
opposite
of
same
sex
I
annihliate
your
type,
if
you
violate
Makin'
your
blood
rush,
you
post
never
a
higher
rate
![The Roots feat. MARS and Dice Raw - Home Grown! The Beginner's Guide to Understanding The Roots, Volume 1](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/q/9/z/9/dh2hbu9z9q.jpg)
Album
Home Grown! The Beginner's Guide to Understanding The Roots, Volume 1
date de sortie
15-11-2005
1 No Hometro/Proceed 2
2 Clones
3 What You Want
4 It's Comin' (live at the Trocadero, Illadelph December 1993)
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