| More money, more problems!
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| Haha! |
| Ayy, you already know
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| I always knew I was gon' make it
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| Yeah, listen, man
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| But you never know what you gon' go through
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| Yeah, my nigga, we got this shit
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| I’m glad to be here! |
| But sometimes, you wonder
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| Yeah, ayy-ayy, I tried told 'em
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| Is it worth it? |
| But I done dedicated my life to this shit!
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| Cash Money millionaire!
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| It’s nowhere to turn! |
| (Ya know!)
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| So I’m in it for life!
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| I can’t feel my FACE! |
| Yeah! |
| Yeah! |
| Yeah, yeah!
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| And this what we do!
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| Let’s go! |
| Let’s go! |
| Let’s go! |
| Hahaha! |
| I told em!
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| I told y’all! |
| (Shout out to Bun B!)
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| Pay attention! |
| (Yeah!)
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| Yeah, straight up D-Boy Seventeenth ward
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| Miss Katrina turned my city to a seashore
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| I keep going for them coins like Lyor
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| They gon' either respect me or: E.R.
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| Burnin' them bitches like a ci-gar
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| Punk, put a hump in your back, they called it Igor!
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| War? |
| This shit is hard, any yard where we are
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| We call that cocaine rice, I got that Condoleezza
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| Huh? |
| You fuck with me, chump, I rock your teacup
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| I say, before you spend a dollar boy, put up the re-up
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| Yep! |
| Get up, 'cause we up, foot up and knee up
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| In the game, put up or shut up, I hit your head up
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| Bukka-bang; |
| the Birdgang and the Birdman J
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| Lil Wayne, here to hang, other words, here to stay
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| Feel my pain! |
| Fireman, I spark in the rain
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| I walk through the flames, yeah, all for the change, yeah
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| Call it insane but I’m a hustler to the muscle
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| And them new drop Bentleys look like pussy in the summer
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| So I’m fucking that, hugging that block like I’m loving that
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| Never sell a crumb where my mother at—run with that
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| You can come at me for beef and shots come with that
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| Your bitch come at me for wood and I’m the lumberjack
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| I come in that Similac Maybach, shades black
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| Looking like I’m tryna bring yay back, ASAP
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| Give it to 'em raw, no Ajax, taste that
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| Heh, fuck around and make your face crack
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| I know niggas that shoot dope, arms looking like a racetrack
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| Nigga missed a vein in his neck, his whole face fat
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| You can’t take that? |
| Well, I can’t take back
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| Where I come from, so I learned how to make that
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| Yeah, turn that straight to a G stack
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| Stack up my cheese, now I’m screaming «Where the keys at?»
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| Big shout to the Dipset movement! |
| (Trendsetter!)
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| Shout my nigga DukeDaGod! |
| (Cannon!)
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| Shout my nigga Hell Rell!
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| I can’t feel my face!
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| Twin, what up?
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| I really don’t think they ready for this
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| (The Aphilliates, nigga! Pay attention!)
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| OH!
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| I’m live from, block one, five-one
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| Where my young niggas on the rise to get a name, don’t try them
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| Wayne, I feel your pain and I see your stress
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| How they think your people 'posed to get through Katrina
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| Off a FEMA check? |
| (Nope!)
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| Coke in the Pyrex (Yup!); |
| dope and the ice, yes (Yup!)
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| Mind on the highway, road signs, right, left (Yup!)
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| And that’s the mindstate of kids growin' up
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| Still they wonder why the crime rate’s goin up
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| Throw it up: Eastside, Westside, Southside, Northside
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| Fuck with my money, I torch guys, off guys (Gangsta!)
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| Hire men, fire men, send 'em to a higher man
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| («There he go») Torture 'em: vice-grip, pliers, man
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| Niggas turn to tinfoil when they see the iron, man
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| Pressure bust pipes, I apply it and
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| Move like a lion through the jungle, yes
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| There is none higher than me
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| Don’t slip up and end wind up in the lion’s den (rrr!)
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| Big body Benz idlin', higher than
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| A chick that flight-attend or Air Force flyer, man
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| Bad bitches, I fly 'em in, fuck 'em
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| Send 'em back home hyped, feeling like they on nitrogen
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| Just call me the Pied Piper, man
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| Still get the coke through the pipeline
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| Then off to the piper stem (Piper stem)
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| And I’m still getting paper back in rubber bands
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| I still got paper bags coming in
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| I still got that mattress with the paper bags under it
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| Comic books, Playboy baby mag under it, still!
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| I still got ties with my guys who don’t speak no English
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| Them vatos, they got those cheapest (Cheapest)
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| Got no green card, got no visas
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| And got those Pablo features (Just watch!)
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| They drop off and pick up; |
| I pick up then drop off
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| Then drop off what’s picked up, and then what? |
| I do it
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| Gangsta Gri-zillz!
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| And like that, we gone!
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| I told y’all!
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| I’m so dedicated!
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| Nothing can take me out my zone!
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| AMG!
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| If you support the movement, then we dedicate this to you
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| Dedication 2! |