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Artist: A+
Album:  The Latch-Key Child
Song:   Enter Hempstead
Typed by: Osirus260@aol.com

A+, you know what Iím sayin 
You wanna send some shout-outs to your peoples?

[A+]
Yeah Iíd lie to give a shout-out to Parkside
Whole Strong Island, the east coast, Bronx, Queens, Manhattan 
Lindenplace, all my peoples on Parkside militia keepin it real
My man crazy Sam, Russel Simmons, my moms
Kedar Entertainment, the Smith brothers, my whole label
And everybody out there supportin east coast

Alright, well this is A+ 
Now you should get his autograph sweetheart cuz heís about to blow up
Hit Ďem with some flavors, let Ďem know what you about

[A+]
Yes yes, check it out
Know what Iím sayin? A+

Iíma show you how the east coast rock
A+, no doubt heíll turn the party out    (4X)

Confession
We keep it representin our section
So guys hit the shorty for the east coast resurrection
YEAH, destruction of the wack MC 
We gone get back on that tip like it used to be
Now who remember when MCís couldnít touch the mic
If they skills wasnít tight then they best took flight
Prepare for combat, wield the contract, let the labels front
I be like Wu-Tang and put the joint from out the trunk
My situation is mad tight
So corny MCís take a hike
Before I ignite wit the dynamite
And blow your crew away just like McVey
I get you, and hit you wit the Parkside militia
I gets iller, than any disease thatís known to man
Destroy the race of rappers like a Nazi plan
Damn, so A&R stop teasin
Before we flip the script like a female pit when itís matin season

Iíma show you how the east coast rock  (2X)

OK now peep the situation
My manifestation is to rock the whole creation
Despite all the negativity, the publicity
It really ainít that hard god itís simplicity
So Iíma maintain and let it rain let it rain
And just like the MethTical I can bring the pain
I had somethin to say so high class pulls the track out
Iím out to blow the spot like the seventy-seven blackout
Seen rappers come and go cuz they had no flow
And if you ask Ďem who was who or her I bet you they donít even know 
Now whoís that wack MC wit all that mouth
Iíll rip him in New York and work my way down south
I be the true I live it, non-fiction never slippin 
MCís they gone learn if it take a verbal ass-whippin
My tolerance is gettin short
So rappers that canít walk the walk grab your tape and escape from New York

(A typical night on the streets of Hempstead
Drinking, drugs, gambling, just hanging out
Not the place for kids, but this is where the kids are into the early morning
hours
The idea of having a curfew in Hempstead is just that at this time 
An idea, but the people here on Terrance Avenue say if enacted
It wonít work, and they say for the police, it will be a nightmare)

[A+]
Here comes the juvenile child wit the Luger style
Lyrically cock back and load BEAKOW
Mad but cats are jumpin, I try to stay humble 
The snakes body gates of Hell want me to fumble
I use my third eye G to see the unseen
Cuz real little brothers like us come clean 
The streets envy, yeah he was frontin like you wanted somethin 
But through his shirt my third eye saw his heart pumpin
We be the realness for those that canít feel this
Your joint is weak, so take a seat while shorty speaks
I gets deep, speak to the streets
Big up to all my peeps in the back seat of badges
Peace to the hardcore juvenile crew
Always schemin on the blunts and brew
Try to maintain hold your troop till we get the loot
And next time think about your life before you  (Gunshot)

Andre get your ass in this house