| Blue Chucks with my Locs on
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| Hoping that the blood homies don’t take it wrong
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| And wipe me off the face of this earth
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| And for the record, I am not banging the turf
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| I ain’t got no record, I ain’t never laid a nigga to dirt
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| And other than a nine to five I never had no work
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| But that don’t mean shit, I could still get murked
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| Any given Sunday, In front of a church, chuch
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| Tabernacle, chapel, If I ain’t on the block I’m somewhere behind an apple
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| Bottom model bottle poppin'
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| Old English like senior citizens speaking
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| And me and legend blowing big kush
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| In a little coupe the same size big foot’s foot
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| And now niggas looking up to me
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| And I ain’t even tall, It’s hard to be.
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| See, The Pressure ret everywhere/er were
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| And if it bust a pipe, it can take your life
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| Right before your eyes, and your homie’s too
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| You had to run it cause the color of your tennis shoes
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| And I hope you got a spare pair
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| And a fresh pack of newports to calm your nerves
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| Roll up the herb, that’s my first name
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| And I get high until I die, that’s on my Daddy’s grave
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| You niggas wearin' a mask
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| Trying to masquerade away from the facts, of your past
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| In past tense I pass this like classes, I took at Curtiss Magnet
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| I remember one time one of the homies had a black burner in a black jacket
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| Shit, who predicted he’d get hit before twenty one
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| Blackjack it is, trying to count your cards quicker than us
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| I’m air tight never flinch when the
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| When the pressure was on
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| Niggas talk loud but they break wild when the weapons are drawn
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| I should hit ten in his dome, cause he a snitch, he don’t represent this
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| gangster shit
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| Shit, he don’t know how it feel to see your homie’s cap peeled by the black
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| steel, for real
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| I can still see the blood spill, it’s ill, it’s ugly nasty
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| Uh, still keep the can/cannon in the back seat
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| What, puffin' the blunt, fully trucked
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| For any nigga that wanna lay on the dust in the ford trucks
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| Trust, I ain’t with the B.S., I’m out the E.S.,
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| With a bad bitch
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| Pro Club 1X tall, no v-neck
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| Show me where the cheese at, I ain’t talkin' Cheese-Its
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| Use to serve rocks in the lot, Al Paci-ess
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| Now I crush mics on the song
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| Life’s a gamble plus a nigga never fold when the
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| The pressure is on
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| I said the pressure’s on
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| Ah, yeah
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| Roll up that OG, pop that OE
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| Aha, know how we do my nig'
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| TDE, top notch, Soul!
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| No pressure
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| Booty-bye-ba
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| One West |