| Yeah yeah yeah yeah y’all… New York City…
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| Tryna to see where I’ma go tonight…
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| The most famous town in the whole fuckin’world…
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| The other night, nigga was at Lotus…
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| I hit P and them I was Dom P’ed up in there, you know…
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| But I found this new spot we went to the other night, yo Check it out check it out how it went
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| It was just cool like, smooth night wit’my jewels bright
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| Goons left goons right, coupe wit’blue lights
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| Bad girls in black pearls, gave us cat calls
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| Took 'em back to the crib to break they ass off
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| In the loft mixin’hash and 'dro
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| Honey spreaded that asshole like a wide mouth bass
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| Sippin’wine out the glass, Teddy Pendergrass blast
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| When the phone ring, the house lights flash
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| Turned down the sound, let’s get down to bidness
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| Shit about to go down wit’some foul niggaz
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| What the voice said, «what up pop? |
| Who want it?»
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| I put the guap up, get the boy popped
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| He say «son stop, it’s dudes you feedin'
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| Who feedin’other dudes, but they really not eatin'»
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| Dog, why you callin’me? |
| This our food
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| You, handle the mouths that it trickles down to Niggaz want beef, I want some of that cow too
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| But I’m in my princely robe, simply rich
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| Don’t bother me wit’silly shit, call Rico
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| He said «it IS Rico, of all people
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| Gave his moms furs, called up the mayor
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| To get his crime pardoned, his son’s godfather»
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| Said the nigga shot up my cars
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| Last night he laid for me to come out my doors?
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| Niggaz always on that bullshit
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| To make a nigga wanna open up a full clip
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| Niggaz always on that bullshit
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| Now ya funeral, the preacher’s at the pulpit
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| Niggaz always on that bullshit
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| To make a nigga wanna open up a full clip
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| Niggaz always on that bullshit
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| Now ya funeral, the preacher’s at the pulpit
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| You can’t kill me High, fly, send a fella loaf or glass?
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| Fold up cash, you ain’t heard the soldier’s half
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| You speakin’hogwash, silly shit, ??? |
| to dash
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| I got the live sparked, Phillies lit, smoker’s jacket on The son of a Cap-ricorn, my dad’s a don
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| What you think that he spawned? |
| A slacker? |
| Nah
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| Packed the nines, yo this nigga’s asinine
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| Smack ya mom, relaxed and calm, then mack ya mom
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| In a casket, you’ll get ya fashion on You’ll be in a suit and tie, you’ll die
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| You’ll make maggots turn to flies, fuckin’wit’Nas
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| Remember anyone can get it at anytime
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| Lames’ll swear by ya name, when they lie
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| Get hit wit’the lone star, ripped where ya bones are
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| So tell me how yo’ass gon’run, from a C-Z-P-O-1?
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| In the midst of real steel movers, you a loser
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| Merk you wit’cha own shooters
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| All you want is a name, pissed and insane
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| My security system, my playspot a fireplace, listen
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| Then it goin’off, start spittin'
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| Niggaz try to bring it where I live in Trustin’you, knew where all of the cribs at So we waited wit’the cigs blat, blat, blat! |