Clones lyrics

[Intro: Black Thought]
To all the Jim Carrey-ass, Mars Co-op
KnowhatI'msayin? Mars Co-op, what the f*ck?
To the clones, we bless the domes
Blow the vial, you know my style, large co-op
Freestyle all the way, son
Dice

[Verse 1: M.A.R.S]
First of all, let's talk about these ill capers
And fly-ass frontin' b*tches that now caught vapors
n*ggas 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 sh*t
I guess that's why every juvenile is in the same predicament
You wanna slang crack, or hold TEC’s, 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 f*ckin' fail ya
The way n*ggas be gettin' clapped, the sh*t'll f*ckin' scare ya!
But in the dark, we ran wild, son, we killin' em
n*ggas scared, can't stand still like f*ckin' helium
Fake n*ggas, they don't go platinum, they go aluminum
Got 'em cloned the f*ck up, son, that's why we losin' 'em
I'm lookin' at this n*gga's longevity
To make a big play, but then, it might be a mistake
'Cause if I get sent to D.C., I'm sendin' Dice to D.E
With three P's, so when I get out, he can see me
For real, 'cause the streets is filled with snakes and rats
The snake will be that b*tch, and that rat will be that cool cat
With swollen pockets, we gonna take you back home
Master-Allah-Rule-Savior, never clone
[Verse 2: Black Thought]
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 Illadel' Val' Pennsy — that's the residency
Consistent currency, my pocket's never empty
Some cats believe they emcee, but we know they all fraud!
Do a show in Philly, n*ggas 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 reservoir of the soul proprietor style Messiah
Or the kaya lord down with Dice Raw
The matador, shorty connoisseur
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 n*ggas is 10% real
90% invented for a f*ckin' 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
But know the tactics of the P.L.O
These C-L-O-N-E-S fess
The phoniest cats is felonious, word!
[Verse 3: Dice Raw]
Dice Raw, the juvenile lyricist, corner-store terrorist
Block trooper, connoisseur of fine cannabis
Focus never weak, blow up the spot like plastique
Leave a n*gga shook, to the point he won't speak
Never half-assed, always live and direct
On b*tches try to punk, smell the panty and raw sex
Mad lights I had to black out when fake n*ggas act out
Or step outta place, they get slapped in they face
All y'all n*ggas is fake, tryin' to emulate my style
What grown man? In this game, to me, you're a child
I trained wack MC's in camps like ex-Marines
Why the f*ck you think you went home and had bad dreams?
Of horrifyin' things that your ass never seen before
You traveled through the realm of Dice Raw
Where clones get they domes blown with chrome microphones
It's not your fault, black, just the fact you wasn't shown
Don't come through this like a smurf
Unnatural, it’s not from this 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 Val' sol-dier

[Verse 4: Malik B]
Don't come across that line, or pay a cost
Knuckle games and hammer c*cked, ain't nothin' sweet or soft
Win, lose or draw, to the jaw take one
Deranged lyrical launcher on station
No conversation is needed, my task completed
Read a n*gga 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 attacked your glamorous
Lifestyle, I banged your head up with the right fowl
My character a product of this 2-1-5th trife style!
I breeze through areas n*ggas would fear to walk in
Balance the talkin', that galactic style is of a Vulcan
Your Star Trek ass will wrinkle
Spill these words and form into a sprinkle
Cat, you're brought up and the name of twinkle
My insight will crack the windpipe of y'all n*ggas
Whether small, middle-sized or tall n*ggas
Just sign your name next when I start to X
Givin' out flesh pains of death, so f*ck a rain check
The insane vet, whether you ganked the brain wet
You proceed to lame check, the opposite of same sex
I annihilate your type if you violate
Makin' your blood rush, your pulse now at a higher rate
Uh!
Uh!
Uh!