| She call my phone talkin' 'bout I’m fucking off, but she pro’ly the one that’s
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| fucking off
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| Don’t call my phone talkin' 'bout I’m fucking off, when you the one that’s
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| pro’ly fucking off
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| She call me talkin' 'bout I’m fucking off, but she the one that’s pro’ly
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| fucking off
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| Don’t call my phone talkin' 'bout I’m fucking off, cause you the one that’s
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| pro’ly fucking off
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| At K.O.D., 50 I’m fucking off
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| It’s me, Birdman, Weezy, Scooter and Ross
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| Now my girl said that I can’t come to the house, she let me in but made me
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| sleep straight on the couch
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| Man I stay outta town, man I go in and out
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| Yo' friends they stay in our business, they need to hush, I’m out
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| Bank account pregnant again, we need a bigger house
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| I’m making euros I might put 'em in a Swiss account
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| My girl still trippin', I said, «What's wrong wit' you?»
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| I told her I’m wit' Gucci tryna bus'-a-move
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| She think I’m here wit' Nicki, I say, «Girl you lyin'»
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| Cause I just got my potatoes and them chickens frying
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| I know that you fucking off, girl I know you messy
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| You got on that rachet shit cause you gettin' dressy
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| Dressed up for nothin' cause you hit my phone
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| All yo' partners rachet, all of them give dome
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| All of them be smokin', all of them be ridin'
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| All of them be doin' trains, you know they be collidin'
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| Me and my nigga smokin' in the back of the valley slidin'
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| So I seen another bitch, and I told her, «Let's ride»
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| Damn she don’t got no weed, she don’t got no fit on tight, and she ain’t got
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| her weave
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| She don’t understand this boy right here be 'bout his steez
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| So I told her hit them streets, then she understood me |