| I remember when I met’cha I was only sixteen
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| Who would ever thought that me and you would get this cream?
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| We took a lot of trips together, you stayed down
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| Remember when we start hoppin' on that Greyhound?
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| She say she like to play hide and seek in the ride
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| And sure I’ll open up the trunk and hide her inside
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| She say she think I’m cheatin' wit' a girl named Jane
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| You ain’t just my babay, bitch, you my everythang
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| I was broke but you maintained better
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| As long as me and you together we can get this cheddar
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| Whatever, her name white Sally
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| I met her through my homeboy Rico out in Cali
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| I thank Reagan for the haters when ya got hard
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| Ya bought me jewels, gator shoes and some big cars
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| Yeah you took me out the hood gave me good thangs
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| Now we on a private plane eatin' chicken wangs
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| (And I love you) You the reason why I ride good
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| You the reason why I shop good, drink good, smoke good
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| (And I love you) You the reason why these hoes choose
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| You the reason why a nigga sprayed candy on my old school
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| (And I love you) You the reason why I quarterback
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| Took a nigga out the projects, put me in a cul-de-sac
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| That’s why I get it how I live boy
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| Cause you took me from a young broke nigga to a rich boy
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| And I love you babay, mwah, hugs and kisses
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| Fuck them niggas and fuck them bitches
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| Been in this game since 1998
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| Nigga take the safety and shit but I’m great
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| Maybe it’s fate destiny, you tell me
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| Damn near ten and that shit been free
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| But I’m P.T. |
| so I gots to cruise nigga
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| Really ain’t shit to prove to y’all niggas
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| All the cars, all the clothes
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| Wit' all the stars, and all the hoes
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| First class flights a nigga live in the lights
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| But see you in the dark, this stuff is kinda hard
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| See where I park, valet costs a note
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| Drop another fifty just to check my coat
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| Probably leave wit' yo' chick, know how I do
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| It’s Pastor Disaster baby, I love you
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| Took me from a gun totin' nigga to a Big Boi
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| Too legit to slip now I got papers on my shit boi
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| And not just my weapons I’m talkin' 'bout titles and deeds
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| You payin' rent you can’t afford and can’t break out of ya lease
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| I’m out of ya league, I might as well be Ivy
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| All over ya ass like injections in a stripper’s hiney
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| Rhyming is a skill that requires timing
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| Like dual ejaculation while my lady’s riding
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| I’m 'bout to cum (I'm 'bout to cum) at the same time
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| You satisfied? |
| (I'm satisfied) that’s how I slang mine
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| A generation came up under my style
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| From penetration of the nation when I was just a child
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| Now, who’s really in the critics talk 'bout me
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| Andre 3000 and three mo' niggas that’s really fie
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| Let me break it down, I get fly at that mouth
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| I, stay fresh to the hosiery we 'posed to be
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| Them niggas from the south so
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| One to the two the three the fo'
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| Satisfied? |
| (I'm satisfied) Then I’mma hit 'cha some mo' |