| If it ain’t about the chips, I ain’t 'bout the stress
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| That’s why I stay dipped behind limousine tint
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| With a fly hooker, and a fly hookup
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| 'Bout to bend the corner where K-oss cook up, yeah
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| Four tight-Ass-Chevys, linked at the spot
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| Pancaked and hot
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| Chariots await, for the homies call
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| That’ll twist 'n grip, K Mr U-Haul
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| And fuck the fifty boys you see
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| Plus they ain’t thinkin' 'bout the P.C.G
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| Trouble man like Marvin
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| Come humble with the bumble
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| Legs on stumble, lay the Glock on the table, now
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| Nigga, is you able to be my price
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| Or nigga, is you able to roll them dice?
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| Nah, but I see your ass trickin' tonight at the club
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| Bitches hittin' your ass for dubs
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| Yeah, I got beef with Bumpy, beef with the Grimmys
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| Two little bitches, careers all finished
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| I’m laughing at that ass with my homie Tow-Truck Kurt
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| Just put in work on your turf, nigga
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| G for it, and I’m ready for that rap shit
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| To capture all the scrill record deal could bring to me
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| Hennessy, diamond link, too many freaks
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| Asshole naked at the chateau on the beach
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| It’s a hold up, with a L.A. flavour
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| You get rolled up with your bitch ass behaviour
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| That’s the L.A. vibe…
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| I’m like the grill on a '64 Chevy, I’m classic
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| Have your bitch sayin' «Hutch, we kinda tight,»
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| Push a SE 400 with the ??
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| Niggas get scared when I bring the pain
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| I’m a legend, you could check the scrapbook
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| Snitches and player-hating bitches, gettin' shook
|
| Got to lay law, when I say it’s time to lay
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| Got to pay up, when I say it’s time to pay
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| Because you don’t really wanna see me and my kinfolk
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| Hanging out the window, with the toolie «pow»
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| We comes deep like the waters in heavy soup
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| We got it sewed up every block, every avenue
|
| Uh, that’s the L.A. vibe…
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| It’s the L.A. vibe
|
| See I mash up the block, I love my turf
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| And players can hate for what it’s worth
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| I twist what I can just to stay alive
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| Cause that’s the L.A. vibe
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| (*Echoes*) |