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All My Heroes Are Dead (The Introduction)
by
R.A. The Rugged Man
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Lyrics
Yo, we are turnt the f**k up today (tonight! aww, sh*t) And I'm so happy to introduce our next guest, I've known this man for a very long time (Rugged Man) And he's one of the greatest His knowledge of a lot of sh*t is crazy This is legendary (well, you know, I—) Without further ado I'd like to introduce to the Combat Jack Show: R.A. The Rugged Man! Yeah! I'm back, 500 shows and two babies later Another classic album, the game-changer savior For every fan who said my music saved their life, this is for you Without the love from fans, I'd be dead, you saved my life, too 'Cause I didn't release an album, some thought that I maybe quit But I was tourin' cities, payin' bills and wipin' baby sh*t From the rotten core, pop imposters lock your door Knock-knock, it's hip-hop's most shockin' provocateur Society despiser, grind of a violent viking fighter Vibin' to the violence inside ya, the suicide survivor Civilize a 85'er, mind of Malcolm and Elijah Tiger-manimal hybrid, island of Dr. Frankenheimer My umbilical cord was a bullet belt of ammunition Rap master mission, battle system, savage tactician But I been ban-barred, been scarred, lived hard Why try? Die hard, but I fight on and my pipe bomb Was a icon in your iPod and your tape decks Rape trainwrecks, and I break necks, I'm a rhyme god Whether rappin' slow or rappin' fast I'm back at last with a masterclass From double time to boom-bap, I gotta switch the form Go from battle raps to club records, to politics, to porn Not the snitchin' gossipin' blog era of TMZ I'm from the olden golden era, home of EPMD We run planets, you c**t maggots smoke dust and puff xanax pu**y pink hair snitchin' mumble-mouth drug addicts You fiddlesticks checker-playin, amateur spectator I'm a Garry Kasparov grandmaster chess player (go go go go go) Need to get ahead, get a record in demand Rugged never ran, get a better plan, better dead a man Schizophrenia, mind in prison, the existentialist nihilism When I flow and go in and I'm rope on the men You see Mussolini body blow in the wind With the Damien devil, the omen of sin Is Mao Tse Tung, Ho Chi Minh, murdering holy men Rippin' the mic 'til I'm dead in the grave I'm the best in the world, I get better with age And I dedicate it to my son and my daughter Recorded this album for every supporter This for those that admire fire flows and bars This not a fashion show, clothes, money, hoes and cars When my pen touch paper, pages feel violated, shook I #metoo'd my notebook, the speech creep, the known crook I'm from the murder era when O.J. was acquitted Before oversensitive triggered little b*t*hes existed The bloody ape, lowlife, die-rugged legend never died Welcome back to R.A. The Rugged Man, Part Five ...but here you are, you're this golden child, dude You got this crazy deal, y-you're crazy talented I have mental problems, man. I was mentally ill in the 90s, man It was true, you know? And I cleaned up my act
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