| banned from TV
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| moving
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| shut the fuck up Ay Yo, Ay yo, Regardless of rain or snow, sleet or hail
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| I kick street tales, choking niggas like i’m sprewell
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| golden state, holding your fate in the palm of my hand
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| blow you away like its part of the plan
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| i gotta call it like i see it, talk it like i be it
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| walkin my walk, thugged out orthopedic
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| cause i’m soon to be up, give me room watch me heat up niggas try to stick me like abdul lerima, follow the leader
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| make me go extra hard, yo nore should i hold back or show the repirtore
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| quit at 16 or throw in extra bars just for the non-believers
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| i show them why its so hard to reach us i get pussy with my fathers features
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| puff heavenly, see me at 6'1"weigh a buck 70
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| catch me in spots yall niggas never be packed in like green bay
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| harlem week to queens day
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| performing acapella, no dj 98 live, no replays
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| make it seem easy, so tell a friend to tell a friend
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| that its them again, nature noreaga, wild gremlins
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| Yo, yo, champagne on the rocks
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| pour on the fort knox lazura
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| shark salad with cabbage
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| pork chops and applesauce
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| twin connection, disrepect watch your body cave in pump the shotty guagin, hit the shorty while he potty training
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| i ain’t playing, i’m truly the worst
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| simply the first to get his whole body fully reversed
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| uzi it hurts, leave you double-dead
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| i’ma a bubble-head, i never listen to nothing my mother said
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| ay yo i hold niggas ransom for money
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| like johhny handsome
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| been sonning niggas for so long
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| i think i got a grandson
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| my passion is money, a stash and a honey
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| that won’t ask questions but will blast anybody
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| thats my kind of girl, kinda of world i want to live in not a cell or a prison or in hell’s armageddon
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| just a little ghetto
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| where my niggas control the middle
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| we know the riddles of life where others know only a little
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| yo, yo been in rich places, sick places
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| seen my story on 6,666 pages
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| wages, i wrote six aces
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| and at the same dice games, i caught six cases
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| all over big faces, now it’s tipped laces
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| ready to dig faces, but the bang it ain’t
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| bitch spaces, niggas loading up they rib cages
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| cats like to rip places
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| bloody lip tastes, but the Cam is in big races?
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| but i stay in import the pig places
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| but the world know the girl though
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| i fuck her off a furlough
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| she’ll be up, hook me up all your sales could be luck
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| only question for these ducks is baby girl can we fuck
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| you the type that need a wife
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| thought L-o-x told yall the key to life
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| asshole, yo i don’t play around
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| i lay it down
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| fuck around, i spray around
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| flick a biscuit, nigga risk it my ass, you can kick or kiss it Ain’t no niggas in the world more thorough than this
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| (bust off) and sit the hot barrel dead on your lips
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| like 2 thirds of a brick (penaro and kiss)
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| and kiss the crystal white fluffy part in the back of a whip
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| see the plan is to stash all, and cash yall
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| the weed so strong, they gotta put it glass jars
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| niggas try to smoke me out, mope me out
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| cuz the rims on my new joint be poking out
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| i’m about to have no feelings
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| shit is deep, do they dance with the devil when they sleep
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| i wake up gripping the air, wishing the hit
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| shit that they kick in ya ear
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| when your soul be drifting in air
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| my gift is half-rotten when i spit it tears
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| that shit’ll drop down my eye, i’m too tired to cry
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| and i ain’t never seen a nigga that too live to die
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| they say you get what you ask for, so get it cuz you asked for it if a nigga ain’t a thief, then he better have the cash for it and we gonna be around til ya body rott
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| and if the feds bring us in we get the same time gotti got
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| what! |
| what! |
| what! |
| what!
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| yo, yo! |
| ay yo, there’s two ways into the hood, one plain
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| the other smoke chronic like straight to the brain
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| ay yo lets get loose, hennesey straight, with tomato juice
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| queens stallion, my guns, fully italian
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| now yall niggas recognize medallions
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| i play the best hood, o-t with tim westwood
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| used to be on section 8, now my section is good
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| thugged out niggas, we eat as much as we could
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| and i don’t give a fuck what! |
| yo i save my shit
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| and i don’t give a fuck what! |
| you can save your shit
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| yall niggas like extra skin on my dick
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| listen to bob marley, you funny niggas like steve harvey
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| frontin live with a weak army
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| i play the nice guy too, i’ll smoke wit you
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| but the realness, i ain’t got no love for you
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| thats why i never do a song with you
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| not even if your babies mom fucked the crew
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| and promised to give us head and swallow too
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| i still say no, no is no, no can doe
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| ya niggas drinking henneray, drinking my flow
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| yo, thug shit thug shit what what
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| what the fuck is the deal
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| thugged out entertainment
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| untertainment
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| l-o-x
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| terror squad
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| this shit is fucking official |