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Artist: Black Knights f/ Dexter Wiggles, Prodigal Sunn, RZA
Album:  The Stolen Legacy, Vol. 1
Song:   Dart Affair
Typed by: Tha Masta

[Intro: Prodigal Sunn]
Niggaz... It's Brooklyn, nigga
Y'all niggaz thought it was a fucking game?
The fuck y'all niggaz think it is?
You think it's a fucking game?
Y'all niggaz better check y'all selves
For real, and, watch ya chin, man
Straight like that
B.K. to L.A., son
Black Knights, you feel me?
Yo, Six, let these niggaz know, son
They flavors is garbage

[Prodigal Sunn]
Yo, yo, Sunzini
Highly anticipated, chronically integrated
These niggaz hate it, but I'm their bitch's favorite
I sign my name an your affidavit
After I hit it, no longer committed
Shit, while you can come and get it
Mad cuz I shine like the chrome in summer time
Stay on the grind, all about making a dime
Got no time for sloppy seconds
These cats wanna copy my methods
Razor sharp like the claws of a leopard
Check it, get in this track like anti-biotics
The flow is toxic, smoke the tropic, aiyo, it's only logic
Why these hoes wanna stare at my optics?
Brickface solid, strong like the walls of a project

Yo, out of one I'm the only with the dick of a pony
And I'm tall and I'm bony, and I walk with the chromy
And I love my bitch, like Chachy love Joanie
Fuck two hundreds pussies, but I still feel lonely
As I blitz with the click that's stupid off that dip
Every shell in the clip is a body bag zipped
And we smoke and we sniff 'til we broke and we stiff
And we ship out y'all bitches if you don't pay note
Just me and my homies, like Manny and Tony
Like 'Tifah and Monie, like cheese and bologna
Like Columbia and Sony, Tender and 'Roni
And the barks getting sparked in the park of Mahoney
Pushing through, in that all black H2
Bird on the corner yelling "Bobby, I hate you!"
Because you didn't get that applehead last week
I told her, word out, tighten up that ass cheek
Snuff bottle connect, 'nuff models in check
I call my hoes, -800 collect
And dare the bitch not to accept, I've got the rep
Of getting my dick sucked until the bitch throat strepped

[Dexter Wiggles]
I leave niggaz under the covers like two lovers
Eternally misleading
People dreaming of ways to get even
Because in the before life, I can't creep
Shouldn't have been fucking with the West Coast Killa Beez
Niggaz got utensils to dismiss you, all over the concrete
In case of confrontation, the millimeter will find thee
Quick than the eye could see
Faster than the hand could grab
Faster than the pistol jab
Pistol smoke be to choke your ass
Fucking with my paper stash
And I'ma half to neut' yo' lab
Or shoot your ass, makes no difference to me
I bring the b-boy back, beat your ass like on Beat Street
Black Remo this bitch, got to
Nigga I fights to the death and your breath you gon' lose it
So who's is it, mines or your's? Nigga, rhyme or war?

[Rugged Monk]
Yo, you spoke on the wrong niggaz when you spoke on the Knights
We damage the mic like young riders looking for stripes
I'm keeping ya hype, like dope fiends welding a pipe
Tonight is a my night cuz Every Night is a Black Knight
So step if you want, you won't last, I blow you like a dust bag
So quick, so fast, open up a can of whoop ass
My whip appeal from pen skills will cause a whiplash
You can't tell what's next when I'm flexing my wrist
My pen is swift, get sharper every time that I spit