| Oh, yeah
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| Q-R-N
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| (LC, LC)
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| On the way from school, we made a vow that we gon' blast for each other
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| Call it perfect timing, since a child I spent straight cash for my bezel
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| I wrap my wrist with flawless diamonds, off shippin' packs to the fellas
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| My gangsta bitch the project’s finest, cook the crack in the kettle
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| My heart got broken by that bitch, now I feel like damn I can’t settle
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| Jump in that, how we growed up in the ghetto
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| New Honda four-door filled with sticks, like we don’t fold under pressure
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| Whole sixty days worth Dickie fits until I ran up some chddar
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| Late night we spent low to th rocks, let’s put the boys on the stretcher
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| I drop a ten right by your yard, we making noise with Berettas
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| Purple Codeine cloudin' my thoughts, like I don’t know no better
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| Two F&Ns, Rocky Balboa, we leave straight smoke in they bedroom
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| Think with my dick more than my brain, that shoulda fucked, plus I ain’t quick
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| to empty clips
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| Like fuck the dealer, cameras in that thang
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| Got all this Codeine in my liver plus my killa might just be my main
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| Right cross the tracks, we up them forties at four n****s for speaking on my
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| name
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| Ran up my guap then watch my people change
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| So many times I question that father like
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| Like why the fuck they got a judge or lil' partner, came from the bottom
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| Life of a thug, call me QPac, young bishop rich and ballin'
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| Twice I done fucked but ain’t no love so I no longer call 'em
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| The opps keep callin' from the phone, we don’t wanna do 'em
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| Ayy, lil' gone, now we gotta make sure these shirts say «Long live»
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| Diamond in the rough, put in my watch, that came from out the projects
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| My pistol tuck, I know they proud even though they ain’t my partner
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| It’s sad enough I ain’t even fuck, fell in love from the convos
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| Here go some billion dollar luck, like wrap this up for Rondo
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| Wonderful feeling from the cups, I’m knockin' at your front door
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| Brick from my 'migo cost a dub, not talking Quavo Huncho
|
| On the way from school, we made a vow that we gon' blast for each other
|
| Call it perfect timing, since a child I spent straight cash for my bezel
|
| I wrap my wrist with flawless diamonds, off shippin' packs to the fellas
|
| My gangsta bitch the project’s finest, cook the crack in the kettle
|
| My heart got broken by that bitch, now I feel like damn I can’t settle
|
| Jump in that, how we growed up in the ghetto
|
| New Honda four-door filled with sticks, like we don’t fold under pressure
|
| Whole sixty days worth Dickie fits until I ran up some cheddar
|
| Late night we spent low to the rocks, let’s put the boys on the stretcher
|
| I drop a ten right by your yard, we making noise with Berettas
|
| Purple Codeine cloudin' my thoughts, like I don’t know no better
|
| Two F&Ns, Rocky Balboa, we leave straight smoke in they bedroom |