| Situation critical cause shit ain’t nothin nice
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| Motherfuckers play for keeps so niggaz lose they life
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| Money comes in different ways, the dope game’s kinda slow
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| Niggaz used to havin money are lookin kinda po'
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| Dank or dope, there ain’t no hope this niggaz peelin caps
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| Gangstas pullin major leagues and brag about the jack
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| Situation critical this chewy got me stuck
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| Indo calm a nigga down but keeps a nigga pumped
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| My partners mamas smokin rocks and turns into a hoe
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| And since they fuck with that right nigga the gat will snort and blow
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| Killas move in silence and the jokers run they mouth
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| Fightin fools that don’t exist take that nigga out
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| Cause his love is murder, two jack burgers takin your respect
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| Coke and dank sex then baked your homies in the set
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| So flash yo cash and whoop your ass if you’ve got more than me And whatever you got is more than mine so nigga let me see
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| Cause jealousy’s reality when it comes to niggaz bread
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| And snitches go from rags to riches bitin to the feds
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| Cause coke is green and money is king and niggaz want the crown
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| So all you niggaz goin up you fuckers goin down
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| The situations critical with stories on the streets
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| Kill em dead and get yo bread but make sure that you eat
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| But I ain’t done yet
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| The situations critical
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| My baby’s momas trippin, got my son and I can’t keep him
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| Wanna cry to hear him on the phone, but she won’t let me see him
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| This chewy got me paranoid and goin kinda scared
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| Niggaz startin to know my face so I had to cut my hair
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| Cause nigga, shit is gettin thick from here to Alabama
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| Cause every nigga’s tryin ta like Tony Face Montana
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| Some niggaz talk about they’ll kill, but nigga no you won’t
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| Some niggaz that dream of playin hoop but end up sellin dope
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| Cause 3, 6, 5 like everyday man dolja takes it toll
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| And motherfuckas live to be a G Original
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| Cause kill groups, its keys the juke, and rubber band they G’s
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| Money shows this ain’t no joke, well bow down to your knees
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| Situation critical, fuck a 9 to 5
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| Chewy got these niggaz amped and they ain’t scared to die
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| So mix me with that bullshit and hit me with that bank
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| Make me with that bammer bitch and rush me with that dank
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| Time is runnin out partna, time ain’t runnin in My freedom is the only life, so fuck the fuckin pen
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| So as I chew my juicy fruit and think about the dead
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| And all my niggaz that had died because they had some bread
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| My mind is on another level nigga this is typical
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| Check my eyes I’m dyin inside, situations critical
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| Situations critical
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| Niggaz dressin rich, knowin they broke without a doubt
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| Born and raised in the same hood in a roach infested house
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| Situation critical I think I’m bout to die
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| The enemy is creepin up and fuckin off my high
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| A nigga hit the 5th and makes it home in desperation
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| Wipe the sweat, hold my chest, and then I plot retaliation
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| Now before you clown you best calm down cause I read you like a book
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| Now must you stare cause I don’t care, cause I won’t even look
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| Thangs ain’t what they used to be a motherfucka told ya Niggaz got the mind to kill and that includes the rollers
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| Cause 2, 4, 7 like everyday niggaz servin cluckers
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| Beatin up the bustas, fuckin Tommy Tuckers
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| Some niggaz say they gangstas and they love when money folds
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| But mosta the time these niggaz be beefin over hoes
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| Cause pussy comes a savage beast and it also makes you broke
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| Especially when that sexy freak is snortin all your coke
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| So check my situation fool and check my state of mind
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| No matter how you makin paper nigga, thats a grind
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| My indo have an increase this week from eighth up to a half
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| And nothin funny motherfucka, nigga why you laugh?
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| So fuck this fame and fuck these records, motherfuck these raps
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| My mother’s broke there ain’t no hope, her son ain’t got no snaps
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| Its the same old song I’m doin wrong, fool this is typical
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| Fuck the fuckin world mama, situations critical
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| Situations critical |