| Ahhh shit hahaha
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| When I enter the first zone, worst known mic holder
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| My Hummer roll up, evacuating strapped soldiers
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| Inside strategy, manifestin' military styles
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| Casual tragedy when niggas battle me
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| My prophecized prediction, switch and move positions
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| Separated from his gun and bitch, and watch 'em start snitchin'
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| I keep spittin', still stupid niggas fail to listen
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| I personify this thug livin'; |
| Hell or prison
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| My ammunition varies, my voice carries
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| Watch me invite the whole world me and the mob gettin' married
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| It seems horrifying screams pierce the dark
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| Just as suspected, a trick bitch where is your heart
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| You mark, watch niggas fall when I call they name
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| We outlaws hold your head niggas all the same
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| Except some who want more out of life than stress
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| We still thuggin' 'til it’s no one left
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| Don’t sleep
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| We gon' ride, keep my pistol on my side
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| Always creep wit' the nine when I ride (when I ride)
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| Don’t sleep
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| Blowin' pine, always hustlin' on the grind
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| 'Cause I gotta get mine all the time (all the time)
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| Don’t sleep
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| We gon' ride, keep my pistol on my side
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| Always creep wit' the nine when I ride (when I ride)
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| Don’t sleep
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| Blowin' pine, always hustlin' on the grind
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| 'Cause I gotta get mine all the time (all the time)
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| Dumpin' on motherfuckers at random, rapidly
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| Wit' accuracy, they shouldn’t talk, bad to me
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| It had to be a motherfuckin' murder, I’m glad to be
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| A nigga that did the murder, so sad to see
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| Another motherfucker floatin' In plastic reef
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| Sleep wit' his head wide open (head smokin')
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| Rapid release, keep the police coastin'
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| Casualties warrant in deep east Oakland (doors wide open)
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| Yolk the nigga off the asphalt
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| Drove off to the hills, positioned him on his knees and blew the back off
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| Death with the Lex Ruger, death to ya
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| Niggas cry when the bullets fly, kill and execute 'em
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| I blast first 'til they body me
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| Like my guns in variety
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| Runnin' wit' the real big willies you silly punks try to be
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| But front
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| Doin' my walk by’s rollin' a blunt
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| Hands on my nuts in a getaway car full of stunts
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| Addicted to my nine, movin' like crime through time
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| Poppin' niggas like pimples nigga, nothin' simple 'bout mine
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| Etch-a-sketchin'
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| Dumpin' on all you punks at intersections
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| Day in and day out, ain’t no easy way outs for easy exits
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| Don’t sleep
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| We gon' ride, keep my pistol on my side
|
| Always creep wit' the nine when I ride (when I ride)
|
| Don’t sleep
|
| Blowin' pine, always hustlin' on the grind
|
| 'Cause I gotta get mine all the time (all the time)
|
| Don’t sleep
|
| We gon' ride, keep my pistol on my side
|
| Always creep wit' the nine when I ride (when I ride)
|
| Don’t sleep
|
| Blowin' pine, always hustlin' on the grind
|
| 'Cause I gotta get mine all the time (all the time)
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| G’s up
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| When I hit the street, all I can see is the grind
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| Blood sweat and tear, when I bust my rhyme
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| Yeah I un- for my folk like I load my nine
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| And when I let loose, then no crew standin' but mine
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| I gives a damn 'bout lame nigga actin' schiesty
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| Same one knew I was in jail and didn’t write me
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| Wanna fight me then come find me
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| What ever you do shawty you better think wisely
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| You might see me wit' a stack in the trap (Aye)
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| I use my thoughts and pen similar to a saran wrap
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| A lil' lame nigga I’ll never be
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| Yeah I’ma keep it g I’m from the Three and Scrap will never sleep
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| Aye
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| We gon' ride, keep my pistol on my side
|
| Always creep wit' the nine when I ride (when I ride)
|
| Don’t sleep
|
| Blowin' pine, always hustlin' on the grind
|
| 'Cause I gotta get mine all the time (all the time)
|
| Don’t sleep
|
| We gon' ride, keep my pistol on my side
|
| Always creep wit' the nine when I ride (when I ride)
|
| Don’t sleep
|
| Blowin' pine, always hustlin' on the grind
|
| 'Cause I gotta get mine all the time (all the time)
|
| Don’t sleep
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| Don’t sleep
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| Don’t sleep |