| Many snakes in the grass, faith in my past
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| December 21st coming straight for that ass
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| No gay slander, but I’m not a fan of
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| Bitch made niggas just posing for the cameras
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| We know who you really are, internet superstar
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| Mr. Orange leave your dog drowning in the reservoir
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| You could never get the best of us
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| Mac live yo neck ajar yeah, that is Hollywood repertoire
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| Niggas be acting, my niggas be wrapped in
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| Money and traffic, inglorious bastards
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| Mel Tarantino, Twelvy F Pachino
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| 6 inch blacks in my Tee by Marino
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| Some more with a Cee-Lo
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| Four, five, six pass me all that grip
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| Fly young fella, produce terror
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| Words to my mom, we gon' own this era
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| Clever with the password, don’t even ask for it
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| Twelvy know to blast first, even had a cash verse
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| Like a bank nigga, blowing on some dank
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| Getting higher than that plane shorty tell me what you think
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| 'bout a bachelor slash trapper slash rapper
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| All that fly shit come after, no pastor
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| Flow NASA, with my brother Nasty
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| I highly doubt I’ll let these niggas get past me
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| Cause there ain’t no such things as halfway crooks
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| Scared to death, he scared to look, he shook
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| Catch a nigga on the late night
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| While he with his bitch like Cam at the brake light
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| Cause there ain’t no such things as halfway crooks
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| Scared to death, he scared to look, he shook
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| Catch a nigga on the late night
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| Why a nigga slipping like Harold at the brake light
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| I’m only 19 but my mind is older
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| When this shit get for real my warm heart turn cold
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| Snuff a hipster rapper, knock the fucking chip off his shoulder
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| Later I have his main bitch coming over, she roll his weed
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| 'fore she do the deed, studio with a jar of weed
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| Tryna turn a couple raps into a couple hundred Gs
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| Living out my dreams, I feel like I ain’t slept in fucking weeks
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| Just to think this come from what I speak
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| Got my stain in this game, from stacking bread and pimping whores
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| Know I keep it low-key like a motherfucking midget door
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| High school I was pitching pills, a couple niggas did the raw
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| Sitting on a couple P’s this rap shit was the other door
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| Yeah nigga chose it, now I got these hoes open
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| I fuck them, they tell they man their phone was broken
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| And I’m blowing on that potent whipping in the seven like it’s stolen
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| Lots of niggas me and my team was showin
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| And I’m riding east side till the spokes break
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| Leave the studio for a motherfucking smoke break
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| Get your main ho to come through for a throat break
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| Doing niggas like Ace, nigga |