| I said it must be cause a nigga got dough
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| Extraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold
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| Hoes at my shows they be stripping off they clothes
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| And them college girls write a nigga name on they toes
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| Niggas talk shit 'til they get lockjaw
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| Chrome to ya dome 'til ya get glockjaw
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| Party like a cowboy or a rockstar
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| Everybody play the tough guy 'til shit pop off
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| Let’s take it to the basics, you in the midst of greatness
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| My Martin was a Maison, rocked Margiela with no laces
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| Cristal go by the cases, wait hold up that was racist
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| I would prefer the Aces, ain’t no different when you taste it
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| A 40 ounce to chase it, that’s just an understatement
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| I’m early to the party but my 'Rari is the latest
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| Somehow it seems girls in they late teens
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| Remind me your favorite jeans cause they naked cause you famous
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| Life’s a mothafucka, ain’t it? |
| These other rappers anus
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| So tell me what your name is, I’ma tell it to my stainless
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| You aim it for you bang it let that banger leave you brainless
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| It’s just me, myself and I and mothafuckas that I came with
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| Miscellaneous, niggas wanna hate on me
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| Until I tell 'em to they face they ain’t no G
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| Low key, niggas mad cause I’m smooth puffing Zig Zags
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| Tell 'em quit the riff raff bitching with your bitch ass
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| I said it must be cause a nigga got dough
|
| Extraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold
|
| Hoes at my shows they be stripping off they clothes
|
| And them college girls write a nigga name on they toes
|
| Niggas talk shit 'til they get lockjaw
|
| Chrome to ya dome 'til ya get glockjaw
|
| Party like a cowboy or a rockstar
|
| Everybody play the tough guy 'til shit pop off
|
| Yes, I’m the shit, tell me do it stink?
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| It feel good waking up to money in the bank
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| Three model bitches, cocaine on the sink
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| And I’m so 'bout it 'bout it, I might roll up in a tank
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| Cause my chain came from Cuba, got a lock up on the link
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| And them red bottom loafers just to compliment the mink
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| Eyes chink, rolling up that dank, blowing on that stank
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| What you mean? |
| Tell me what you drink, I’m on that kissing pink
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| You could call me Billy Gates, got a crib in every state
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| Man on the moon, got a condo out in space
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| Open up your legs, tell me how it taste
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| And them niggas talking shit so tell 'em, «Tell it to my face»
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| Tell that bitch, hop up on my dick, rolled up on her quick
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| In a six, told her suck the dick, motorboat her tits
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| I’m the shit, niggas mad cause I’m smooth puffing Zig Zags
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| Tell 'em quit the riff raff bitching with your bitch ass
|
| I said it must be cause a nigga got dough
|
| Extraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold
|
| Hoes at my shows they be stripping off they clothes
|
| And them college girls write a nigga name on they toes
|
| Niggas talk shit 'til they get lockjaw
|
| Chrome to ya dome 'til ya get glockjaw
|
| Party like a cowboy or a rockstar
|
| Everybody play the tough guy 'til shit pop off |