- published: 13 Feb 2015
- views: 618
Christian René, viscount de Duve (born 2 October 1917) is a Nobel Prize-winning cytologist and biochemist. De Duve was born in Thames Ditton, Surrey, Great Britain, as a son of Belgian refugees. They returned to Belgium in 1920. De Duve was educated by the Jesuits at Onze-Lieve-Vrouwecollege in Antwerp, before studying at the Catholic University of Leuven, where he became a professor in 1947. He specialized in subcellular biochemistry and cell biology and discovered peroxisomes and lysosomes, cell organelles.
In 1962 de Duve joined the faculty of what is now Rockefeller University in New York City, dividing his time between New York and Leuven. He took emeritus status at Université catholique de Louvain in 1985 and at Rockefeller in 1988, though he continued to conduct research.
Amongst other subjects, de Duve studied the distribution of enzymes in rat liver cells using rate-zonal centrifugation. De Duve's work on cell fractionation provided an insight into the function of cell structures.
[Gudda Gudda]
Yeah,
Ok, I walk up in the club Louie-Louies with the cherry bottoms
Bad bitch on my arm with a Halle Berry body
You know what I do, I, g-get straight to the moolah
Wrist wear frigid and my watch is a Franck Muller
I'm reppin' young moolah, Gudda x 2, I
Remember when I used to stuff my paper in my shoe box
Now I got two large accounts with money stacks and large amounts
What the f-ck you niggas talkin' bout, cause we ain't tryin' talk it out
Pistol hangin' out my jeans, it ain't a thing, lets spark it out
Let that chopper start to sing and let it ring and then I'm out
Yeah, you know what I'm sippin', purple got me trippin'
Scoop your chicken up and let her lick me like a lizard
I'm on South Beach chillin' and I'm tryin' to f-ck every hottie
Get her to the crib and make her f-ck everybody
You know the team, it's Young Money over everybody
In the rap game, so it's f-ck everybody
[Lil Wayne]
Married to the mob, bury you alive
My girl p-ssy feel like heaven to a God
And I came in this bitch with my niggas
Kidnap the baby and the f-ckin' babysitter, yeah
I be doin' me, don't give a f-ck bout what you doin'
Blood gang bitch, big V's, Boston Bruins
I could do this shit, eyes closed, nothin' to it
Bullets f-ck your body up, they ain't even tryna view it
I go tough, I go stupid
Murk your p-ssy ass and everyone you in cahoose with
F-ck you with a pool stick
Make you swallow tooth picks
F-ckin' right, we ruthless
We done watched too many movies
Then smoked too many doobies
Murk you out, then deuces
We don't know what truce is
That bullet proof vest so useless
Flag red like bruises
Shoot ya head with them uzis
I swear, your honor, I ain't a dealer, I'm a user, ya dig
I load up the cig, point it at ya wig
Pull over on the highway, throw you off the bridge
We don't give a f-ck, and we ain't never did
Shit, three words you never hear, let him live
I'm in my own zone, it got me throwed off
I break these bitches down, I break these hoes off
Lil Tunechi is my name, I got Gudda on the tape