| Woooo… Woooo
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| All my niggas gone bust they guns
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| real mother fuckers never trust niggas, but we trust our guns
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| get money is the code of the streets
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| live by it, and they say the hotter the bullets, the colder the streets
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| like the older the hammer, the older the beef
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| you holding the can and you busting or you die with your heat
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| me and my niggas gone survive in the street
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| for one reason, we aint living to kill niggas, just dieing to sleep
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| im in the hood and i aint wear a vest
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| push a stock GTO, with a pump in the seat and a desert eagle in the head rest
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| live and i took 5, get respect cause i wont die
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| so its a bet that im gone ride
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| Im riding dog, you riding with me?
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| If im frying dog, you frying with me?
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| If im dieing dog, you dieing with me?
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| Just know when the beef come, we all busting our guns
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| we can beef, i dont give a fuck, any street, stoop or block
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| Compton, New York City or Watts
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| you aint never been out the hood? |
| dont go to far
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| 12 guage shotty, with a pump like Joe Dumar’s
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| shells the size of sprewell lugs, go through cars
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| rip apart your new bently nigga, like Dre sent me
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| the haze in me make me wanna kick back
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| your man work out at bally’s, put the 38 to a 6 pack
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| and beef keep the E. R full til the shit packed
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| no more rooms? |
| let em die in the streets
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| im from the CPT, where niggas dieing to eat
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| them niggas with scars under they left eye and they cheek
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| park a 745 on your street
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| like mother fucker if you dont ride with me, you can die with the enemy
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| or die like the kennedy’s nigga
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| i empty desert clips out like a bottle of hennessy nigga
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| Im riding dog, you riding with me?
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| If im frying dog, you frying with me?
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| If im dieing dog, you dieing with me?
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| Just know when the beef come, we all busting our guns
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| I got niggas that’ll beef for the game
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| run up on your man, splat his brain then bring you his chain
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| so if you owe my hood, you better pay up
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| i roll with killas, that’ll put you in a hole like a lay up
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| aint no sleep on the block, my niggas stay up
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| cause they aint trying to miss sales
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| they trying to tip over fish scales
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| be in the XXL, and its only 6 street rappers if you wanna be real
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| that go for the whole industry you bitch ass niggas
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| say my name in a verse if you ready to die
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| i call up my Harlem niggas on the i95
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| 10 minutes later you dead on the I95
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| Aftermath mother fucker, we aint playing this shit
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| 50, work ride, Joe, Cube, the Game and Em
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| its our house and we in the front yard
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| so fuck with the Dr. and get picked apart like junk yards
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| Im riding dog, you riding with me?
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| If im frying dog, you frying with me?
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| If im dieing dog, you dieing with me?
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| Just know when the beef come, we all busting our guns |