| Chorus x2:
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| This shit is on
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| I got love for the blocc
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| Let 'em know for the blocc nigga yeah
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| This shit is on
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| I got love for the blocc
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| Nine times for the blocc nigga yeah
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| Crossed the tracks, out at Burbank High
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| Late night, nigga felt nice
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| Came in through the hole in the fence
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| Threw up the mighty 9
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| Bloccstyle
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| Homies had the spot sewed up mutha fuckas
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| Rollin' wit the G-B-C down as fuck
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| All the O-G's showed us what’s up
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| Every real nigga from 29th street
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| Kicked up a gang of dust
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| True, this is why we dedicate the rhyme
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| To the niggas from the G-B-C, rollin' wit deuce nine
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| What’s the wild straight deuces'?
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| And while the set’s in the city of Sac
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| Ain’t got no truces
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| How it hurt when the homie Chaka-Loc moved on
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| How it hurt when the homey Q-Ball was gone
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| Nigga this is how we livin'
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| And ain’t nobody gave a fuck
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| While you niggas bullshittin'
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| Rival killa, murder his ass
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| In his faggot ass set
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| With his bitch made niggas
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| At the hamburger stand
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| Niggas don’t understand
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| How the fuck a bitch gonna stay out on the spot
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| Wit no love for the blocc
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| This is how it’s done nigga
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| I got love for the blocc
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| Nine times for the blocc nigga yeah
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| 24 in the mornin' and I’m high as fuck
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| Had the jack-off motion
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| 12 gauge in my trunk
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| Plus that bomb ass chronic from the Garden Blocc
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| And that mutha fucka Doc had a Glock
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| So I was coo
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| Coo like the brew I be sippin' on
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| Get yo gut rippin' on
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| Wit yo what
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| Wit yo millimeter chrome
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| See the only thing I see doin' is
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| Gettin' high in the sky
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| And I like to ruin kids
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| Wit my 9 millimeter
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| Strap up, seat up
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| Fuck wit the Garden Blocc
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| And get yo busta ass beat up
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| See what you do is like feel me on some shit
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| And I’m a stay high, way high
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| Just in case my dome split, home sicc
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| For the mutha fuckin' season, of the sicc
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| Cuz you know how others get
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| When I get to spittin' shit
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| Isn’t it a mutha fuckin' shame
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| Niggas wanna kill me
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| But still we became, indo’d out
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| And ain’t no mutha fuckin' doubtin' me
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| Me setripin' niggas apart
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| Like a ear blow fatality
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| Yeah, this is how it’s done nigga
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| I got love for the blocc
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| Four times for the blocc nigga yeah
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| St. Ides brew, a joint to the face
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| Seven niggas deep
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| Miller Park was the place
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| Mackin' to a ho, spittin' my shit
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| Kept my fingers round a gat
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| To protect my click from punk shit
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| Nigga check
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| Eleven o’clock, the park’s hot
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| I’m watchin' out for niggas wit a gat for the Doc
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| You know, a mutha fuckin' gangsta scene
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| Wit real niggas that bang
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| They real niggas on they own team
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| Straight killas, down for they shit
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| I seen the Creek, the East
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| The Heights, the Park, the View shit!
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| The rivals is mutha fuckin' deep
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| Stay wit the set locs
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| Damn, we only seven G’s but yo
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| Niggas we got the straps and uhh
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| Plus we ain’t sleepin' so what
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| Mutha fuckas watch yo backs
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| Chill though, spit to the hoes, killed the foes (or fo’s)
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| And watch out for the ricochet rolls yeah
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| Cuz that’s life in the city, cross the South Sac
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| Garden Blocc, deuce nine, much love, no pity
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| This is how it’s done nigga
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| I got love for the blocc
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| Nine times for the blocc nigga yeah |