| What’s up, miznan? |
| Driznu Diznown, miznan
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| I seen Tiznask all in front of the house, miznan
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| A nigga was triznippin', man—what happened?
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| I woke up and started my morning with beef, hash, and coffee
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| I thinking about this rookie ass cop named McCarthy
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| They keep on jackin'—oh, is there a problem, sir?
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| I know there’s not, so what the fuck did you stop me for?
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| That’s the type of shit I’m talking right there
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| A lame ass cop a pumpin' nursery fear
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| Take the badge and the belt off, huh, and get a sawed off
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| And blow your muthafuckin' head straight off
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| Now, I’m running from the po-po's, get in front of
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| I’m jettin', getting quicker ‘cause I’m gonna, dip
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| A devastating leap over the fence
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| I hit the ground and the right and commence
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| To put my muthafuckin' after-burners on
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| After me, he hit the fence but I’m gone
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| He stomped his feet, he’s getting angry, saying «Damn!»
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| About this time, I’m in the Cougar with the slam
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| I see these silly dilly daffy duckin' bitches
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| They’re my potnas but they wanna ride to Bridges
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| I said «okay» and them in and what the fuck
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| One light, one dark, and both with big butts
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| But soon I pulled away from the curb
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| The Task was on my ass, there go my nerves
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| I’m getting jittery but the hoes couldn’t see
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| I had a stack in my drawers worth a G
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| I made a move and when I did, there goes the siren
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| But what do you know, the bitches out my roof firing
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| A gunshots through the window to the head and now they’re dead
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| And I don’t give a fuck about the punk wonder bread
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| So ya see, it was a job well done
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| Congratulated the hoes with the drank and bomb, huh
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| We hit Bridges, dropped the hoes off immediately
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| And being the player that I am, I continue to be
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| I’m still riding as I shoot through the big Melrose
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| And muthafuckas getting jacked, stripped head to toe, bro
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| But what do you know, mayne, Dru Down is steady packin'
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| I got somethin' when they keep jackin', see
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| Like that, miznan? |
| (Yeah, fuck the police)
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| Now I’m finna introduce my potna Numskull from the Luni Tunz
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| Finna kick this jailhouse shit
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| I just got out of muthafuckin' jailhouse
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| I heard more stories than soaps that niggas tell before they bail out
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| Before I hit the first bullpen or holding
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| Cell, I heard more muthafuckas say that they was rollin'
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| Be sellin' dope in the East
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| At least got fits, cars, bitches, and a couple of ki’s
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| Don’t do no homework in school but he passin' still
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| One nigga said he fucked more bitches than Massengill
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| Got a bitch, 36, with a husband too
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| He don’t sell weight but you know that his cousin do
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| You need somethin', he can get it, it’s all good, bro
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| Got hella scratch but no money on his books though
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| His mom’s rich ‘cause the bitch owns Nexxus
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| No, he’s not hungry but he’s the first to run for breakfast
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| Now he bragging about the shit that his kid has
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| And he said he smoked more weed than zig-zags
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| He takes a 40 to the face every morning
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| Swear up and down that the hoes, they be swarming
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| Around his ass ‘cause he famous
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| But to make shit worse, he even lies about what his name is
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| Now this was the whopper
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| Slut said he heard a nigga say he had a gold helicopter
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| Come on, that shit is wicked
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| Why these muthafuckas always lying just to kick it?
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| With that jailhouse shit
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| Now I’m finna Yiznukmiznouth, the other Luni Tun
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| Tell ‘em how it is, man, when you finna hit that major lick
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| Up on the late night, loading clips, holding shit to myself
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| About to jack this trick but he’s rollin' thick
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| Thicker than my dick, so you know he’s livin' phat
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| Plush ass Rolls Royce, a condo way in Sac
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| I’m saying that he tried to have me offed
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| And give it to boss, it didn’t work
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| And first of all, I know the muthafuckin' turf
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| Just like the back of my hand, the man tried to pull the lick
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| Shot the four-fifth, fucked up good ‘cause he missed
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| I’m over the hills and through the woods at grandma’s house just plottin'
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| Niggas are mad because I got shit sewn like a stocking
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| His hoes jockin', knots be walking fast past him
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| Because they know Yukmouth got the creamery for them
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| And M&M peanut can’t match up to the candy that we nuts
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| Got in the plastic bag stashed way in the cut
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| He must don’t know I know the hoe he fuck with
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| And I’m a nigga that can verify she suck dick
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| But uh, shit got deep, deeper than shit’s creek
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| As soon as the bitch beep, she gon' tell me where the trick sleep
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| Then I’ma go pimp this old shit
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| And if you act bold, bitch, I’m letting off the whole clip
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| In your ass, in your kids' ass, and if your black ass brother slip
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| I got another clip for his ass
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| Because the game is some real shit
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| Two dicks don’t click, but never try to play me like a little bitch
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| Nigga…
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| Yeah, C&H crew, you understand me?
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| Dru Down and Luni muthafuckin' Tunz, yeah
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| Flow like this, somethin' to ride to |