| Yeah, much dedication to Uno, Untro theatre
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| He loved that wicked shit
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| It’s for nine six, too much mix
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| Maybe me a picture, sweat as a memory
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| No enemies allowed or an able to get in to me
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| Hot, fills by body, makes my blood bail
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| Real mothafuckers, that was seven years loyal
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| We lost my niggaz six months ago
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| And people said: that we out to dark
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| But we remained thick think with shit, the Pimp Clinic niggaz and the Park
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| Cause see, cash rolls everything around
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| I’m lookin' for a bitch to take 10 of them things out town
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| Cause niggaz outta state got the proper price
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| A couple of fights, back and forth and we be head tight
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| You’re tryin' to floss, sellin' dopes on the corner
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| It’s 1996, lay you on some white sheet
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| If the Po-Pos done bitchin, them player haters willin'
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| I be sippin' on the Aliz way up on the hill
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| Waitin' for Tommika to check in
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| So we can grab the money, make a profit and Re-up again
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| Yeah, it’s like my life’s one way big hustle
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| Three sixty five mothafucker, three sixty five mothafucker
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| Three sixty five, yeah
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| What see, we’re lettin' y’all niggaz know the mothafuckin' real
|
| What see, how the mothafuckers, that get your fuckin' cap peeled
|
| What see, we’re lettin' y’all mothafuckers turn to the real
|
| Cause I might right trip, Above the Law niggaz’ll kill at will
|
| Come on, Km. |
| G, no need to be limit again
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| Count the money, so I can get wet, sweat that ass
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| Who can let the nigga smoke that hash?
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| There’s too many glocks in the mothafuckin' stash
|
| We can’t walk through the clean part of town
|
| Cause the skinny busters, nigga, might steal our fuckin' sound
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| And get draw down quick like quick gore
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| Talent bullets should be gone ?? |
| more leave you hardcore
|
| In stores, so what you need?
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| And we got that funk sack that wets your fuckin' feet
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| Take you to valley with the chirmin' in Alley
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| Niggaz shootin' bangers, California street gangsters
|
| Ugh, I got the Infra Red set on the tech
|
| Ready to roll on some punk-Ass-Niggaz tryin' to pop like the swole
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| Sayin' we put whack shit out
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| When they knew our first LP was rolled straight out of the Fatike house
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| That’s why I roll with the thickest
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| That’s why they call me 178, and my style is the wickedest
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| Fuck the B-Boy the truck
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| I checked my nuts cause I be number one on the block, still gettin' fuck
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| Yo, I keep it real mothafucker
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| Still I am a murderer, still I am untouchable
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| That was like 1989 now it’s 1996
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| And the only thing changed is my cars and my tilt
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| And everything else remains the same
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| Still the same niggaz, still the same names
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| Ugh, and that name was Above the Law
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| Is that mothafucker, it’s all I want
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| Yeah, I said it, I put that on my great aimin'
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| See I be true to this shit I be claimin'
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| Yeah, yo, yo, bring that shit back again we gonna blow you
|
| You know, we’re sick, I mean sick
|
| What see, we’re lettin' y’all niggaz know the mothafuckin' real
|
| What see, how the mothafuckers, that get your fuckin' cap peeled
|
| What see, we’re lettin' y’all mothafuckers turn to the real
|
| Cause I might right trip, Above the Law niggaz’ll kill at will
|
| Awww ahhh, awww ahhh, awww ahhh, time to keep it on the real
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| Awww ahhh, awww ahhh, awww ahhh, caps get peeled
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| Awww ahhh, awww ahhh, awww ahhh, time to keep it on the real
|
| Awww ahhh, awww ahhh, awww ahhh |