| Whether you in L.A., Philly, Brooklyn or Mississippi
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| Drive slow like your «Boyz n the Hood» lookin' for Ricky
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| Whips roll slow like hearses, headin' to churches
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| We gargle with holy water and spit, bless 'em with verses
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| I ain’t the type that flosses pricey watches
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| But’ll build a whole mansion out of Nike boxes
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| Cause y’all be dippin' whips at speeds that make your tail spin
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| While I be ridin' slow, pumpin' brakes like mailmen
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| You fuck-up, I buck with the forces of horses
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| Puttin' more slugs on you than the floor of a forest
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| Got more power than Porsches driven by sorcerers
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| Y’all are soccer moms pushin' four door Corsicas
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| Admit it though, dude, that my shit is so smooth
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| You’ll be ridin' so slow that your spinners won’t move
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| Seat back, volume up, bitches sayin', «He's bad»
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| Ridin' real slow, playin' Sammy The Sleezbag |