| Yeah, uhh
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| It’s yours truly Akir, one of the prizes
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| Southpaw whattup~!
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| We takin over this year man
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| Mood Music, yo, yo
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| Aiyyo my music for the moodiest sidewalks
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| I talk ebonics, smoke chronic, and drink booze tonic
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| Until I feel bionic off the hydroponic
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| Some niggas never mastered phonics foolish states for how they act around us
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| Some people ask about us, I never try to be somethin that ain’t me
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| Never plan to be 2Pac, Biggie or Jay-Z
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| Even though they lives are amazing
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| To share they occupation never want the fans all dazed and
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| If I was shoppin at, Macy’s, want to have a wife and babies
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| Supportin 'em from endeavors that consistantly pay me
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| Real estate investments and a big Mercedes maybe
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| Somethin, a little shady, not too Johnny-Come-Lately saved me
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| As I come in when I breeze you as you can’t rotate me
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| Or a autographed picture of a mixtape ease
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| Into things only to show and prove for kings of rings
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| When I get I handle my business live it like a king
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| So bling bling ain’t a thing to be braggin
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| Niggas with things steam for a chance at your baggage |
| Not to be cling cling to a cop that he raggin
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| Or locked in Sing-Sing for somethin that just happened
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| I’d rather hold you captive like a pirate ship captain
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| Plus a nice package so I’m goin ghetto platinum
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| Niggas know I’m stackin but I’m passin out ratchets
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| Tryin to span the classes like elastic with my classics
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| «I subdue the microphone and left in in submission» — Mic Geronimo
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| «I'm on my team, my hustle and my grind you know?»
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| «Cause I’m a money getter» — Big L, «Enterprisin, advisin» — Fat Joe
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| «Set the microphone on fire» — Inspectah Deck
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| «I subdue the microphone and left in in submission»
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| «Gassed 'til they witness me, known for my imagery»
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| «Cause I’m a money getter», «Enterprisin, advisin»
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| «Leave me in the deck too long, I blow up your box» — Royce Da 5'9″
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| Yo, yo, aiyyo they ask me how I’m doin with the music
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| Enthused I’m turnin down development deals
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| It confuse minds, a new find, the kid intoxicatin like moonshine
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| Cinematic dramatic reactions with my line
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| Pictures of an eye shot, away from a nine Glock |
| From his sly pops to his son in a pine box
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| Watch his soul escape out his eyes while the spy rocks
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| Never saw it comin like I run into your crime spot
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| Direct reportin live from the block where crime’s hot
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| It is I Ak', here to flow and just love it
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| You chick jock my dick in public, hit the show uncovered
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| My music so you dub it, all type of people love it
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| So my style is hard to fuck with, cousin
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| Got the street buzzin all type of budget budge in
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| Not part of my thuggin against the current, gummin
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| Yo you must be buggin beats bangin 'til your brain gets bludgeoned
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| It’s nothin, write until my fingertips sunk in
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| Seven years in the makin don’t fake all of a sudden
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| Got my niggas in the back if you just see me frontin
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| Still humpin like an X-rated old time function
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| — with ad libs
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| First things first, I never try to be like Nas
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| See I’m my own man, respect to that nigga though pah
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| It’s the same thing they used to do to him and Ra'
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| Take it as a compliment and nod as I hit the top
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| Thinkin I would stop like the blinkin lights on the top |
| Of a cop car, undercover brother, son of a bad mother-
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| -fucker hittin the curbs, utter these words
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| Ridiculous, for my chicks, in the thick of it
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| Niggas in the sticks and shit, convicts on they long shifts
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| In a tight predicament, kids takin bong hits
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| Typin on the internet, entertainment introspect
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| A little pain while bangin sex, is the closest I can get
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| To describin into vibe of this, while I’m scribin hits
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| I think about those survivin in these wild environments
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| Perspirin, tired still hopin that they hirin
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| How can I get mad at niggas bootleg piratin?
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| But if you like it and you find it again, bring a friend
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| And make amends when y’all niggas both drop ten
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| Why pretend like I’m on when I ain’t I still hustle for cash money
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| Family’s gas money in the tank, while I
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| Shit, prices are high, off of seven-two
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| Pretend you and your man got five, whattup pop?
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| You gon' buy? |
| Shit cause here comes 5, I gotta dodge
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| Tryin to eat and stay alive, I’m tryin to deal with these fines
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| — 2X with ad libs |