MARKED FOR DELETION - Focus (Duplicate) lyrics

Hey! [vocoder box] Never understood, how we did it How we made this music groove your very soul [Verse One: Erick Onasis] Yo I lamp out in the rented E-7 V-12 screamer The new Benz, seen her? 290 thou', wow Somethin your rap budget does not allow Why you laughin, I don't see nuttin funny Pull back two Mac-10's now it's a big Mac-20 That is the basics Quik and I we run the Matrix Hold your mouth don't say sh** Walk through any borough That stretch from here past the tri-borough Better respect us dog we thorough Don't get confused We smashin crews, it's my rules Step incorrect and get abused I bring the ruck to any cats bringin drama Make 'em feel it, like 2Pac's "Dear Mama" It can be pitch black and I'll spot ya BOOM! Kick in your door like Big Poppa [vocoder box] Never Xzibit DJ motherf**in Quik Erick Sermon [Verse Two: DJ Quik] Ay, tell me what you get when your n***a Xzibit And Quik get down with the E Double? You get we trouble E, make the beat bubble Make the ba** all on you shake they break out To the ground and dig em out of E rubble Partyin, happy that you shook the whole crib And if you got a pound E Dub I got dibs Cause this is how we do it here It's ironic that you done stepped into a room Of purple hydroponic, fat booty b**hes sparklin Tryin to take you to a star(fo' sho') Tryin to get you to recognize they know who you are Can't you see the red carpet, they lay it out And if you got a fantasy Erick they play it out We big figure rap n***as; from the gate We been waited on and hated on since eighty-eight Now cross my dogs or cross my path and I'ma wet ya Way down from the Compton town, and I betcha that [vocoder box] [Verse Three: Xzibit] Ha, yeah, ladies and gentleman Yeah, the bar is now open C'mon, yeah, it's on me C'mon, yeah Presented to you, Mister X to the Z Yeah, listen I'm the spin doctor, Phantom of the Opera If this was '89 I would break you off proper co*kblocker, dump a few G's in my lolo Not dough ho, my n***a Big Kam and Solo Dolo, most n***as react like a h*mo And when they wit a crowd now they wanna get loud Wanna act wild and act like your criminal file Is stretchin a mile, but really got the heart of a child ?? steal our tickets Extra points like a field goal kicker Like a f**ed up D.A. wit a charge that ain't stickin I'm walkin away, a free man Cuz y'all n***as softer than sand Cuz we f**in a fan and locin out wit your pan I f**ed your mother, so now I'm the motherf**in man! Break fool on the track like it's supposed to be And break bread with the real n***as close to me EPMD [vocoder box] C'mon, yeah, DJ Quik in the motherf**in house Yeah, this dick in your mouth Ha, c'mon, yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, c'mon Yeah, you think it ain't? The West coast broadcastin live in 1999 All the way bouncin through millenium Ha, c'mon, yeah Yo, millenium sh**, yeah, c'mon, yo millenium sh** Yeah, c'mon yo, millenium sh** Yeah, yo, DJ motherf**in Quik Yeah, yeah, ha, yo, yo Yeah, Green Eyed Bandit Yeah, b**h n***as can't stand it C'mon, yeah, keep 'em bouncin Yeah, R.I.P. Roger Troutman Yeah, yeah, c'mon, ha, yeah Yo.. yeah, what, yeah, yeah Hah, yeah Yeah it's the real n***as Yeah, bounce wit me, c'mon Yeah.. hahahaha n***a! [vocoder box] Never understood how we did it How we made this very music groove your soul