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 Rate Clones
Artist : Roots
Song : Clones
Yeah, to all the jim carrey ass large co-op
Knowhati’msayin? 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
Verse one: m.a.r.s.
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
Verse two: 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
Illadelph isle pensy, that’s the residency
Consist in currency, my pockets never empty
Some cats, believe they mc 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 the
C-l-o/n-e-s fess
The phoniest cats is felonious (word)
Verse three: dice raw
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 mc’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 sol-dier
Verse four: malik b
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
Deranger 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
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