| Brave like an indian the Mohican of his last
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| No money weed or ass baby no backstage pass
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| We rondezvous, I’m flippin on my kenneth cole shoes
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| And some bitches talk too much I’m letten them bitches spread the news
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| Like channel 4
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| Why gangsta niggas love to snort blow?
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| Chewy is the god down here in the 'Moe pina colada
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| The set done got hotter than a sauna
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| We break 'em like a puzzle then we gather like pirhanna
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| I keep my money by my nuts
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| Dip through the cuts we don’t front we at the front and we roll big blunts
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| Layin pagans down
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| Just like a bearskin rug
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| Goin deep into the depths just like a Russian navy sub
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| On course, rollin with the front lights off… I can smell the gunpowder
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| Bullets dipped in the sauce
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| Some jokers floss
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| Yeah, but is the impression they’ve adapted
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| My steel declare’ll spark the flare
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| The or the plastic
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| Burning rubber
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| Doin doughnuts that the pigs just couldn’t eat
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| They brought the coffee and the cream but all they saw was tire streaks
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| I’m on the streets
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| I can feel my mother worry in her sleep
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| It’s 3 a. |
| m
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| I’m with Sun Kim and we smokin to the beat
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| It’s Nickatina…
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| Meow Meow Meow Meow
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| Meow Meow Meow Meow…
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| I be a suitor, a freeway drivin bay bridge commutor
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| My roll of decks in full effects has turned into a computer
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| We got weed, but cheese out all the snitches
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| We want the money and the women
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| You can keep them scandelous bitches… for ya self
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| I make ya put ya mic up on tha shelf, broke ass hoes they want new cothes
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| Be axin niggas for help, but I can’t hear em' but I can hear a needle
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| Drop on top a pillow
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| When a clucker fiend here go a sceme, a piece of yellow skittle, a tin shot
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| Follow me as I parade around the block, blowin wind like a tornado
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| Dirchargin' like a Glock, steel plated, I usually get an X when I’m rated
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| Them sucka MC’s Them wannabees, they talk when only faded, like the blunt.
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| that once was plump then burned to ashes
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| I garuntee my third degree is just like twenty lashes, on ya face
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| I’ll one hundred percent represent my race. |
| while them bastards blast that rock
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| n' roll, my niggas crank the bass for tha chamillion
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| The F finger answer all ya questions, my pitbull alliance no doubt
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| My only cure is protection stutter steppin
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| My killer cross ain’t false it’s been perfected
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| Baby ya got nice clothes, but I’ve come to see ya nekked
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| Like it’s ya birthday, like a fiend would say
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| When they broke and they on the rock
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| Your conbination has been invaded, your safe has been unlocked
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| It’s Nickatina
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| Baby just pull ya panties down, all that other shit is um… irrelivant
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| Meow Meow Meow Meow
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| Let me hear that
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| Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow
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| Three Oh clock in the morning… |