| Who the jiggy nigga with the gold links?
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| Got me reminiscin' 'bout my old day
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| Three 6; |
| suck a nigga dick, no foreplay, all day
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| Boomin' out the trap through the hallway
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| Tell me what you niggas know about it
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| Auntie sayin' turn it down, or she finna call the cops
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| We be plottin' on the ops, she the one who got the drop
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| Just a free, quick fix, to the A and it’s okay
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| They gon' take me back to my old ways
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| I was tryna chill, poppin' seals ever since I got a deal
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| Kick it with my model chick
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| Sip Cris, fuck niggas wanna diss
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| Now I gotta let 'em know whose really trill
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| Lord Pretty Flacko, Jodye
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| Tell these fuck niggas, how you been?
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| You can freshen our minds, niggas talk down every now and then
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| On the style, gettin' styled 9 times out of 10
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| It was, Flacko, Jodye, Flacko, Jodye, Flacko, Jodye
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| I ain’t never lookin' for no handouts
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| Broke ass niggas never helpin' but they hands out
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| Find out where the fuck nigga live then we camp out
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| Screamin' fuck the world, never catch me with my pants down
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| Always been a stand up guy, I’d rather stand out
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| Raf Simmons, Stan Smith edition with my bands out
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| I’m the trillest one to do it since Pimp, nigga hands down
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| If a nigga put his hands on me, that’s a man down
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| Trick what? |
| Pimps up, hoes down
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| Woah now, slow down
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| See they runnin' with my old style
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| Grow foul, gold smile, you ho now, thuggin' with my old style
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| It’s a shame how they low down
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| Dirty like Adidas on my sneaker feature, uh
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| Trappin' through the speaker, peep the beeper ringer, uh
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| Turnin' off phones, just to reach 'em, gotta beep 'em
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| I’m a Lord motherfucker, better greet him if you see him |