| What? |
| Yo yo yo yo yo yo
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| It ain’t over baby it don’t stop like dat dat dat dat dat dat
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| Wah-kump dat dat dat dat
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| Wah-kump, wah-kump dat dat dat datdat dat
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| Wah-kump come on
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| One question who be the thug that y’all love most?
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| Or give a toast to this freestyle drug dose the thug muscle
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| So whistle if you hear clear gon' get you close
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| And yous a dead man like last year see most fear
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| The marvelous, alias you dare discuss and get
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| Yo motherfuckin head crushed
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| These slugs bust the most wanted when they just appointed
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| I stomp dogs and leave 'em froze because you know you fronted
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| Too many MCs not clearly on this hype tip
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| I’ll fuck yo mic and catch you later on some snipe shit
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| Extended clips I represent because my thugs trip
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| Easy boy, I’m stompin' corners where them drugs flip
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| Ali Baba snakin' lakin' trustin' North shit
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| You catch a grip or leave a don to climb the night hits it’s mob official
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| You test I’ll leave you knock-knissued bandaged up like a snitch
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| 'Cuz I ain’t fuckin' with you straight up, we bringin' it
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| What y’all, huh huh, V-A know about this
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| What y’all in Hampton, huh huh know about this
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| What y’all in P-Town know about this
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| What y’all in Hoviay know about this
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| Check it out
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| I’m ya P-Town hit man I’ll make ya shit man
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| Pay my stick man to do my dirt I’m filthy rich man
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| My thugs always hang around the top dog of all dogs
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| Make 'em pick locks and spit glocks until you shit rocks
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| I told you that I’m project strong you took me wrong and learned
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| That thorough cats don’t last long Alias the Don
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| I leave it messy like I’m Joseph Pesci don’t fuck around
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| You ever test me and you’ll have to wet me I’m ghetto fabulous
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| The mob crush the Lord just, never be discussed
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| When there’s dirt involved, niggas leave the mouth closed to hush
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| I rush club scenes like, what? |
| always carryin' the bust
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| The reason why, these niggas that ruck ain’t had enough
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| I hate to peel ya cabbage back, or bitch-slap
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| 'Cuz otherwise you wouldn’t quit that, to kidnap
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| So what I’m sayin' is, everybody’s real within the game
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| Alias be the fame, so you don’t know my name, nigga what?
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| What y’all V-A know about this
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| What y’all in Hampton, what know about this
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| What y’all in Nomo know about this
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| What y’all in Chesapeake know about this
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| Bring it boy
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| See I told y’all motherfuckers that my clique roll deep
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| AK’s and street sweeps gunnin' down in ya peeps
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| 44's and Calico, Pretty Ricky and Low
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| Thugs know the real on how I let shit go
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| But if it’s real, my niggas hold a forty and fill
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| Mass grills, body armor, niggas trained to kill
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| I’m at the point of no return, so I let shells spill
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| Vinny Rush, Crazy JJ and Mush must chill
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| And Killa K and Johnny Hesh steady aimin' that steel
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| Shit’s for real, my nigga P and Mike might peel
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| They get the gats and crazy stuff my brother love the ghetto tugs
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| And set on top of niggas what let’s straight wet the party up
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| ESP was in the cut my rootin' black, pull it up
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| Is that enough? |
| Y’all niggas still fail to call my bluff?
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| And yet I told you, when left back cain’t nobody knows you
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| I suppose you woulda kept your mouth closed like I told you
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| What y’all in V-A
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| Know about this- I told you
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| What y’all in Nomo, what
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| Know about this, what |