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outerspace - raw deal lyrics

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-girl whining on telephone-

(chorus – planetary)
be careful who you talk to
the places that you walk through
you never know when somebody is creepin’, tryin’ to hawk you
better grab your gat too
’cause n-gg-z will attack you
and blast you, right behind your back
’cause the cash rules

(crypt the warchild and planetary)
yo
industry rule number four thousand and eighty:
record execs are made shady for gravy
protecting your neck can save you and save me
we step on the set, like f-ck you, pay me
give ’em a chance, and they’ll take food from your babies
and stress you out, to drive a grown n-gg- crazy
now ain’t that crazy? you ain’t kiddin’, man
they run for cover when the sh-t really hit the fan
the snakes in the garden, pray on your downfall
abondon sh-t, it’s hazardous, and they can drown y’all
exploit your people with a image, they can clown y’all
the voice of evil in your ear, you hear the sound, y’all

(chorus)

(planetary)
yo
ain’t nothin’ worse than a sheisty b-tch
she’ll take cream in your credit, the ice and the whip
your life and your kids, you’re flippin’ your lid
kicked out the crib
a baby on the way, you don’t know who’s it is
it might be yours, life on pause, nights on tour
you try to call the b-tch, but she yappin’ the jaw
you feel like smackin’ the wh-r-
she contacted the law
like you never smacked her before
why she actin’ all raw?

-talking-

(planetary)
yo
just to clarify, i’m planetary, i terrify
prepare to die, dawg, but never try
i am the next millenium rapper
got you trembelin’ after the shots blown from the stage
every sentence i master, n-gg-
toxeeded, philly to chi-town town even panics at the ground bleeding
when they hear the sound of demons
i’m fiending this seed of blood dripping from heathens
the reason underground and mainstream had a meetin’
i’m lookin for liquor to drink away the pain
but when the store close i cut my wrist and drink it from the veins
that’s in me, crypt, you you feel me?
a basket case, we take souls from their bodies, a blast of? plates?
on fire for real, and i retire my deal
it don’t matter, i still got wounds and i’m too tired to heal
every rhyme is for real, and i’ma break these adams
i’ve been spittin’ since ninety one, you can’t erase this p-ssion

(crypt the warchild)
yo
i see this n-gg-z, think they big and they bad
whylin’ out in the club and? duck? p-ssin’ in bags
and i ain’t even got to use a clip or a mag
i use a twelve inch blade to split sh-t when i’m mad
let you rot six days, ’til the stinkin’ is bad
let my pen print rage when it sinks in the pad, homie
so get it right, i’m a murder machine
stampeded through the wilderness to murder your team
cats bleedin’ like i slit they wrist, burstin’ their dreams
guaranteeing you’ll be feelin’ this, superb when i glean
i spit fire, h-m-cidal, and there’s no reasoning
get drunk, bury the needle, killing season is in
headhunt, buryin’ people in this steep full of sin
i’m leatherface with a chainsaw, splittin’ your chin
so don’t approach me with no lame talk, as simple as grim
unless you like to see your frame choke again and again, n-gg-

(somebody talking)
now that’s what i’m talkin’ about, man
murder these motherf-ckas, dawg
we outta this b-tch, man, meet me at the motherf-ckin’ bar



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