| Aiyo, 9th, man
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| Aiyo, BP, man, it’s Don Don
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| I open up doors when I floss
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| And I’m zealous for this money on tours that you claimin' that’s your’s
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| While you lookin' like you out of sorts, I’m havin' no thoughts
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| Of stackin' these chips while you smackin' ya lips
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| Everything you talk about you need to think about
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| It helps to bleed and treed on rap fiends, that’s what black needs
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| Learn how to separate the real from the fake
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| The cat from the snake, maybe then you could get a plate
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| I never let a man take me out my character
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| To prove I’m a killer, any nigga pull a trigger
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| And you never too old to learn
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| Put ya pride to the side and maybe then we could get a burn
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| Everybody wanna kill for power
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| Unity brings power, one man will just devour
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| While we killin' off a portion of a strong nation
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| We need to analyze this shit we facin'
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| Aiyo, young black millionaires, we ghetto souvenirs
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| After the Laughter sometimes comes Tearz
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| We drink and pour the beers, sometimes we swear
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| Young, gifted and black yet still we never fear
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| You gon' bump this and you gon' like this
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| Even if you ride out to it you gon' like this
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| Even if you up in the club you gon' light this
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| And money with the Clan, aiyo, you gon' like this
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| Aiyo, the black Einstein, whenever I rhyme I design the ill line
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| And get the crowd hype like Patron and lime
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| 9th Prince the soloist with a twist
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| Sharp as a Razor that’ll cut ya wrist
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| Fishin' out the water, leave the hook in his back
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| For actin' out of wack, fat asses I slap
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| I did bids, ran with stick-up kids, Vicious like Sid
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| Black ghetto prince, my defense always in sequence
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| Smack you senseless, never go against this
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| Hip-hop is back and independent
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| You could die in a heartbeat, the Granddaddy Flowin' Al Don
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| Rockin' lucky charms, we keep firearm in our palms
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| We’re ready and able at all times to drop the bomb
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| With no alarm, my Staten Island niggas never stay calm |