| This song right here, is dedicated to the president of the United States of
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| America
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| Y’all might know him as George Bush
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| But where I’m from, lost city of New Orleans… we call him this
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| Georgia…
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| Now
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| This song is dedicated to the one wit the suit
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| Thick white skin and his eyes bright blue
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| So called beef wit you know who
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| Fuck it he just let him kill all of our troops
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| Look at the bullshit we been through
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| Had the niggas sitting on top they roofs
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| Hurricane Katrina, we should’ve called it Hurricane (Georgia) Bush
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| Then they telling y’all lies on the news
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| The white people smiling like everything cool
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| But I know people that died in that pool
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| I know people that died in them schools
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| Now what is the survivor to do?
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| Got to no trailer, you gotta move
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| Now it’s on to Texas and to (Georgia)
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| They tell you what they want, show you what they want you to see
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| But they don’t let you know what’s really going on
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| Make it look like a lot of stealing going on
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| Boy them cops is killers in my home
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| Nigga shot dead in the middle of the street
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| I ain’t no thief, I’m just trying to eat
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| Man fuck the police and president (Georgia) Bush
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| So what happened to the levees, why wasn’t they steady
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| Why wasn’t they able to control this?
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| I know some fok' that live by the levee
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| that keep on telling me they heard the explosions
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| Same shit happened back in Hurricane Betsy
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| 1965, I ain’t too young to know this
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| That was President Johnson but now
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| but it’s president (Georgia) Bush
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| We from a town where (Georgia)
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| Everybody drowned, and
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| Everybody died, but baby I’m still praying which ya
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| Everybody crying but (Georgia)
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| Ain’t nobody tried, there’s no doubt on my mind it was (Georgia) Bush
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| Now
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| I was born in the boot at the bottom of the map
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| New Orleans baby, now the white house hating, trying to wash away like we not
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| on the map
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| Wait, have you heard the latest, they saying you gotta have paper if you trying
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| to come back
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| Niggas thinking it’s a wrap, see we can’t hustle in they trap, we ain’t from
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| (Georgia)
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| Now it’s them dead bodies, them lost houses, the mayor say don’t worry 'bout it
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| And the children have been scarred, no one’s here to care 'bout 'em
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| And fash out, to all the rappers that helped out
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| Yea we like it they calling y’all, but fuck president (Georgia) Bush
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| We see them Confederate flags, you know what it is
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| A white cracker motherfucker that probably voted for him
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| And no he ain’t gonna drop no dollars, but he do drop bombs
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| R.I.P. |
| Tay cause he died in the storm, fuck president (Georgia) Bush
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| See us in ya city man, give us a pound
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| Cause if a nigga still moving then he holding it down
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| I had two Jags, but I lost both them bi-tch-es
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| I’m from N.O. |
| the N.O. |
| Yea!
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| (oh yea, you thought we was done? Naw)
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| YEA!
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| Money money money get a dollar and a dick
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| Weezy Baby that crack, motherfucker get a fix
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| Got money out the ass, no homo but I’m rich
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| Bout to go get surgery and put some diamonds on my wrist YES
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| Yep, I’m a motherfucking trip
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| I’ma trip to Japan and buy some brand new shit
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| Nine hundred to a grand, get you twenty eight grams
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| If you talking 'bout bricks, I’m the interstate man
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| And the women say damn, them niggas don’t say a damn thing
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| Boy I bet that shotty make you bounce like a bed-spring
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| Walking a thin line, gotta defend mine
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| And wit no pen I’m sorta like a bomb BOOM
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| Young toon, yea that’s what my people call me
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| Fifty thousand for the cross, trying to keep the reaper off me
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| I drink a lot of syrup, bitches say I’m sleep walking
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| Big money for the grill, so I’m never cheap talking, yea
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| Keep talking and the flame leap off the hip
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| And keep sparking, pap pap sleep softly
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| Yea, nap nap, nap sack, three forties
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| Like fuck another nigga, nigga just don’t be the target
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| Young New Orleans nigga, nigga just don’t be retarded
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| We done lost everything and you looking like a bargain
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| Purple weed, purple drink, purple heart sergeant
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| I’m the best rapper in the game no arguing (arguing)
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| And I don’t even write, pause
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| Un-pause this, so keep ya bitch ass lines inside the margin
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| Lil Wayne dot com bitch log in
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| Put a pillow under your knees and keep ya jaws in |
| All in ya girl mouth, use her like a toilet
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| They usually want a baller and the young nigga balling
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| Mike Jordan, pardon my swaggy
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| Even my father rich as fuck and all my brothers left the family
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| We said fuck it bought two houses in Miami
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| I can’t wait to do cribs, MTV c’mon get at me
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| Any rapper wan get at me, tell ya label contact me
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| Half four hundred for a feature, wanna battle, I’ll beat ya
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| I’m a beast, I’m a creature, I’m the son of miss cita
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| My dukes, my jeter, she the reason, she the reason
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| Everybody woman wanna beat a boy diva, not even
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| There’s a 305 dime I wanted ever since I seen her
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| Got a topic of this evening, hotter than a tub steaming
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| Gotcha girlfriend dreaming of one day being Trina
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| Notta sip seemer, ten ki’s in the Beamer
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| Got a white girl driving, couldn’t do it much cleaner
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| I’m fly in the sky like that motherfucking ribbon
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| Bitches got my name on em, and the nigga still living
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| Spend a condo and a club, one bottle won’t do
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| Two bottles won’t do, bottles for the whole crew, thanks
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| And bring me that Patrone, I don’t play
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| No ice I like my drink straight, not gay
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| And bitch that bank come everyday, I’m paid
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| I wish a nigga come invade, get sprayed
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| I stomp a nigga out like I got ten legs
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| Then they fish the nigga up out the lake in ten days
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| Behave, no ho, I’m on that Rage Rov
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| Cash Money, Young Money, ho that money age old
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| And can’t a cage hold this animal from Hollygrove
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| Sorry mami I be stoned, I be, I be, I be blowed
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| Got me copy rock star, Weezy Baby fuck these hos
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| Gotta pay me now for me to even take these hos
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| Price sizing for a show and the flow
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| So either Drama is my nigga, or that boy got doe
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| Go figure that’s my nigga, that’s my nigga, my nerve
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| If anybody else want it, sixty thousand a verse |