| Whats chrakalackin, nackalackin, nigga watcha packin?
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| Now i hate bitches widda passion
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| High model street fassion
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| I stay weeded with the beat bashin
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| Talkin shit when im smashin
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| Put ma rap down, profound ina virgin town
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| Hit the (?mall) like the God, now im splurgin now
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| Crack a rhyme, hard crimes in all 5 boroughs
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| Its somthin like egypt n the pharo’s
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| Gimme the keys to ya' city, ima still pick the lock
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| And leave hella clues fo da cops
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| Leave fingerprints on tha Glock
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| Leave ID on tha block
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| Dawg did ya do it? |
| no i did not
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| Gun powder flour, nigga (?) towers
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| I love gummybears, sweet n sour
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| Dawg its tha (?) lyrico, myrical spunge, bitch
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| Shell toe adidas n airforce ones, bitch
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| Smellin so cute in ma sean jean john suit
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| Filmoe street, nigga bus' duce duce
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| Its da fellony rhyme n a mellody crime, its heavy
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| Ya cetch 4 raps right across ya belly
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| Ya big homy, in vegas lika coleeonie
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| Its all real, nota macaroni SIIN
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| Imagine bullets bouncin off ya CHIIN
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| Fo eva fuckin off your dirty grin, n den, yeeah
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| 1984, i was on da plane dat was about ta soar
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| I was jus 14, about ta go down n see ma family
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| Jus when the plane was about ta land, i saw dat ma cusin was da man
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| He gave me da formula, dat was ma summer in Florida
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| In 1984, i was on da plane dat was about ta soar
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| I was jus 14, about ta go down n see ma family
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| Jus when da plane was about ta land, i saw dat ma cusin was da man
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| He gave me da formula, dat was ma summer in Florida |